The Second Chances
by snoopygal16
Summary: Ryan vacillates. He doesn't know whether he can be to Seejay what Sandy was to him. He doesn't know if he can be that brave. She plays with his wife beater before answering."you have the purest ofhearts.And you'll do right by him,even if you hate his dad'
1. Chapter 1

_**Prologue: 'the mistakes we make'.**_

She sat staring at the tepid prison building, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as if she as deriving strength from it.

_Stop being such a coward._

_I am not being a coward, I am just… _

_A coward?_

_No, I am just afraid of losing all that I have. _

_Then turn around, go back, and you never have to think about this kid again._

_I, I… can't… _

Marissa Atwood sighed, her long blonde hair falling out of her carefully created chignon because of her restless hands; the result of the internal debate that she kept having. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she had formed all those years ago as her face mirrored the anxiety and the turmoil that she felt in her heart. She knew what she was about to do could very well wreck her marriage, her life, but she also knew that she couldn't not. There was something in his eyes, call it kindness, call it reluctance, but it was something that she couldn't let go yet. She had to find out why he had done what he had done…

Gathering all the courage that she had, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped outside. Slowly she walked towards the gate, her hands unconsciously smoothening the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress as she approached the first guard. He barely glanced at her as he opened the door.

The first thing that hit her as she stepped inside was the darkness that seemed to pervade, even though the neon lights glared overhead every few inches. The smell was stale, as if it had been years since anyone had really bothered to clean up. Whether it was the dankness or her feelings that were choking her, she had no idea. She could hear the raucous laughter and the screams from the prisoners and for a moment, she felt raw fear trickle down her spine. For the millionth time she wondered if she should even be here at all. If Ryan came to know, she was here...

_No point in thinking about it now... _Squaring her shoulders, she approached the second guard

"I am here to see Seejay." She said politely although her voice held an unnatural tremor.

This guard looked up at her and almost did a double take. Classy ladies like her didn't come here often. He gave her a leery once over. "And you are…?"

She thought carefully, her hands flicking away her hair nervously, before she answered. "Uh… a friend."

The guard watched her skeptically aware that she had side stepped his question, not giving him her name. He knew he could pull it out of her if he wanted to, but finally he just decided to let it go. What did he care, really? "Just wait down the corridor in room number 102"

"Thanks" she muttered, before she nervously made her way towards it. _This is it. Now, there is no turning back._

She subconsciously took the seat that was nearest to the door as her apprehensive eyes surveyed the room, taking in the varied occupants of the other chairs and tables. Some were laughing, some were silently talking with their guests and some were brooding. But, what struck her the most were their eyes. Every single person in their had the same kind of eyes. Hard, cold, bottomless, shell less. They wouldn't blink if they had to kill and she suspected that many over here had to. What was she doing here? She must leave.But before she could complete that train of thought and her feet could actually take any action, the door opened and a weary boy of about sixteen walked inside. His eyes weren't that hard, or that cold or that bottomless, or that shell less. _But, they soon would be, if he stayed here_._the thought popped into her mid from God knows where. _Even from this distance she could see the torment that burned in his eyes, the sadness that lurked in their depths and the maturity that aged his face. He seemed 'big', almost like a 60 year old man was trapped in the body of a sixteen year old boy and what saddened her was that he seemed just as battle weary... like he had given up.

"Hey Seejay…"

Seejay was shocked. Never in a million years had he thought that he would meet Marissa Atwood, when the guard had told him that someone was here to see him. What was she doing here? The wife of the same man who was indirectly responsible for him being here in the first place was here to see him? It didn't add up. He masked his confusion with the same indifferent look that he used on everyone as he raised his eyebrows questioningly up at her.

"Uh, I don't know why I am here…" she began awkwardly, looking anywhere but at him.

"Well, that makes two of us".

Her eyes immediately clashed with his. His were obstinately staring at her, like they were daring her to answer. He was barely sixteen years old, but in that moment, she could have forgotten that, except for the hurt and the pain, besides the confusion, she saw lurking in their depths. She had seen such eyes once… She had fallen in love with them…

"Look, I just wanted to know why you did it."

Her eyes softened as they implored him to confide. Somehow, he found himself unable to lie to her. He folded his hands on his lap as he looked away. "What does it matter? I am here aren't I?"

She leaned towards him, her voice softening. "It matters."

He almost wanted to believe her, believe that she cared. But he had had a lifetime of people lying to him, for him to really believe her that easily, however soft and true her voice rang. "No, it doesn't" he breathed out harshly, "not to you, not to your family and definitely not to me. So, just go!"

Immediately her hands clasped his, effectively stopping him. "Wait. Just wait! There's… there's something else".

And here it comes, he thought. He was right in his first assessment. He never should have trusted her. He was almost disappointed though, he had really thought that she was different. He waited for whatever it was that she was going to say.

"Your dad…" she took a deep breath, "he died today".

For a minute all he wanted to do was pretend that he was at home and that none of this had happened, so intense was the pain and loneliness. He had no one left anymore. His hands gripped the table tightly; his entire body convulsing, his eyes tormented and stormy, before he finally brought himself under control and they blanked. "Thanks for telling me". He said in the same emotionless tone you would use if you had to thank someone for giving you the right directions or if someone gave you a glass of water.

She placed her hands softly upon his trying to give him whatever comfort she could. "I am sorry…" she whispered.

He looked up at her, and what she saw almost had her blanching. In that moment, he looked like such a lost boy; she could clearly see the vulnerability, the pain, the confusion, the loneliness, the fear, the fear he was so desperately trying to hide. God, he was just sixteen, almost the same age as her son and she couldn't help it; She crossed the distance in one quick step as she hugged him to her. "Oh baby, I am so sorry."

He flinched as he stood awkwardly in her embrace, his hands falling uselessly to their sides. It had been years since someone had held him like that, almost like a mother… and even though he convinced himself he didn't want it, he didn't really want this embrace to end. He had almost felt loved for once, even though it was for a minute. Finally, she pulled away. "If there is anything I can do…"

He looked down as he bit on his lip. "Leave…?"

She sighed. She wished there was something she could do. She couldn't. That was the truth of the matter. It just wasn't her place…

"You are a good kid and he loved you however warped it may have been. Just remember that". She squeezed his hands reassuringly as she sadly looked at him.

A ghost of a smile came into his eyes and he looked up at her in gratitude. "Thanks. And… and I am sorry for you know… I didn't mean to."

"I know. That's why I came". She smiled back.

It happened in a split second. One second she was turning to leave and the next second she was pulled roughly to one side by a giant of a man, "my, aren't you a sweet little thing?"

"Let her go." Seejay ordered, his eyes narrowing in a warning. The man turned towards him laughing derisively, "oh and you gunna stop me?"

They both circled each other, like opponents in a ring, the older man laughing hysterically while Seejay's face only showed anger.

"Okay, boys, I think this is not required."

In one swift move, Seejay butted headlong into the guy, causing the guy to lose his balance and fall. The guy not deterred brought Seejay down with him, his weight acting as a pulling force. Almost as if he was a rag doll, the man flipped their positions, pummeling his massive fists into Seejay's face.

"Wait, no, stop." Her cries went unheard.

What happened next happened in a blur. The guards came and restricted the man as they took him away., "You are dead, you punk, you hear me. You come back into the cell and you are dead!" his shouts could be heard even after they had led him away

She crouched down over a bleeding Seejay, "are you alright?"

His eyes almost glazed over with unshed tears. Too much had happened today. He brushed her off as he got up to leave. His lips curled in derision at her question. "Of course I am, I am bleeding, in jail, my dad's dead, I have no future and now some six footer wants to kill me and there is no other way for me to go."

She could not leave him like that. They would kill him in there. And he had tried to save her. But what else could she do? She didnt have an option. There was no other way. Except... Well, no, she couldnt. But, then she looked intoo his eyes, the same sad, tormented, confused, angry, lonely brown eyes and she knew she couldnt turn away. "Wait…" for the second time her hands raised to stop him… "There is another way…"

He stared at her, afraid to believe what she was saying.

Now she KNEW she was in deep trouble.

She had just agreed to bail out Oliver Trask's son.

(Don't kill me. We all hate Oliver and Oliver is not and will never be shown to be the good guy here. I have been playing with this idea for quite some time. Most of the story will be in flashback showing us how they got to this point and the last few chapters will be the continuation of the prologue. The next chaps are going to be extremely fluffy coz there will be more angst later on. It's not a mystery. It is the struggle of a family to accept another as their own. Please, just give it a try and I promise you that you wouldn't be disappointed.)


	2. Chapter 2

_(**an author's note**:_ so like I said in the last post, most of the story is sort of in a flash back, telling us how they got to the point where marissa goes and meets seejay in jail. A prologue is just the sneek peek of the future. read this like you read a story book. I hope I have made myself clear and not confused the hell out of ya'all.)

**Chapter 1: the perfect life.**

The couple sleeping on that huge, massive bed was blended seamlessly in each other, their arms entangled, their bodies spooning, their faces mere inches apart, their eyes closed in a deep and peaceful slumber as the early morning light pervaded through the curtains basking them in its warmth.

Suddenly the alarm rang, disturbing the ideality of the scene.

No response.

The alarm persisted, used to the indifferent treatment for seventeen years now.

The only response was the man turning his body to the other side as he burrowed his head even deeper in the pillows, trying to block out the shrill sounds.

It was of no use. The alarm was ever so adamant.

The man groaned, holding on to the last vestiges of his sleep, as he tried to shake his wife awake. "Riss, honey, Wake up."

No response.

"Riss, common, it is _your_ damn alarm. Wake up."

Her only response was snuggling even deeper into his body, as she burrowed her head in his arms, a soft moan of denial escaping her lips, "Nuh uh".

"Oh common", he grumbled, getting irritated now. "Why do you set the damn thing, if I have to be the one to wake up every time to shut it off?" Every night she set the alarm because she grumbled that she didn't want to be late for work, and every morning it was _he_, who was the one getting up. Knowing that it was a lost cause; that he had lost any chance of falling back to sleep now, he muttered angrily under his breath and leaned over her body to shut it with a single flick of his wrist.

A long delicate arm snaked around his waist pulling him back and causing him to fall on her, just as her beautiful blue eyes fluttered open. "It's because you look so damn hot when you get mad and you pout," she whispered huskily, giving him a sleepy kiss.

Still mad at her, he refused to be cajoled. He glared sternly at her. "I am not getting up again ;you can get up early tomorrow for a change and… and I do not pout"

unknowingly said in a cute pout, it were his last words that made her laugh. Interrupting his charade, she traced his lips with a long delicate finger, "You do too"

"Do not"

She giggled, linking her arms around his neck, and looking deep into his eyes "do too"

When she looked at him like that, her blue eyes slumberous with remnants of sleep, a soft smile playing on her lush lips, even as her hands lightly traced patterns on his chest, it was impossible for him to stay mad at her. Getting into their playful banter, he fixed her a mock glare. "Take it back or I won't be responsible for the _consequences_"

She just laughed as her eyebrows shot upwards challengingly, "oh yeah? And what are you going to do?"

He nipped at her lush lips teasingly, "maybe this", he trailed down her neck sucking at her pulse point, "or this", he moved downwards, "or…"

"Did I mention how much I love your _consequences_?" she whispered, her words slightly undercut, her hands entangled in his soft hair and she pulled him upbefore joining their lips in a passionate kiss. Rolling over so that she was the one on top, she swirled her tongue against the thick column of his neck and his head fell back onto the covers, eliciting a deep moan from the back of his throat at the sensations that she was evoking.

"Hmm… morning's used to be our time, what happened?" he questioned huskily, looking deep into her eyes. Her already aroused blue eyes changed to a passionate indigo and it was at that moment that Ryan lost all control. Flipping their positions, he took her mouth forcefully in his, as he melded their palates together hungrily, their hands seeking each other desperately, and their bodies rolling together under the covers in the all too familiar dance.

"Mommy… Mommy"

Ryan's roving hands instantly stilled under the covers and his head dropped onto her neck in a frustrated groan.

Marissa let out a loud, frustrated sigh. "I guess, kids happened", she whispered, just as their bedroom door crashed opened with a loud thud revealing a tiny, blonde hair, blue-eyed girl in her cute little pink Barney P.J's standing apprehensively in their doorway.

To Grace Atwood, who was five years old, she was 'the perfectest big girl in the whole world' and her daddy and mommy were 'the bestest daddy and mommy ever'. So, when she had found out this morning that there were monsters under her bed, she had to immediately tell everything to her daddy and mommy so that they could fix it. She had been about to go into a detailed description about exactly that, when her gaze fell on the rapid shuffling of her parents under the covers. She stared suspiciously from her dad to her mom and back at her dad, all thoughts of monsters forgotten. "Daddy, what are you doing?"

His head fell back in a half laugh/ half cry and a strangled groan escaped his lips. "Uh, I, uh..." he tried to come up with something quick as an embarrassed flush tinged his cheeks. "Baby, mommy and I were playing a game." He gave her the best answer he could hoping that it would suffice.

Unfortunately for him, it didn't.

"Oh really?" his daughters eyes rounded in excitement at the very mention of a game. Playing a game especially with daddy was her favourit_est_ past time ever. Her blonde curls dancing, she jumped up on their bed and squealed excitedly, "what is the game like? What are the rules? How do you play it? Then can I play too?"

Ryan almost choked on her questions, his panicked blue eyes seeking Marissa's, never expecting his two year old daughter to come up with this.

Luckily for him, his wife was way better at this than he was.

"Princess" she whispered leaning down and stroking her cheeks soothingly, even as a soft chuckle escaped her lips, "this game is only for grown ups, okay? That why you can't."

Her blonde curls dancing, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, their five year old daughter cocked her head to one side, thinking hard on what her mom had said and considering it. Her every emotion and thought was so adorably reflected on her expressive face, that Ryan and Marissa both had to laugh at how cute she looked. Finally, as if she had just solved a mystery, she acknowledged it with a silent nod, "oh okay. Then it must be hard"

Referring to the lack of alone time they got, his laughing blue eyes clashed with Marissa's, "make that very, very hard."

"But, daddy, then when did you learn how to play?" her eyebrows furrowed in a frown, as her inquisitive blue eyes looked up at him,

Never expecting that, his mouth opened and then closed, no words coming out of it. "Whhh… what?" he finally gasped.

His daughter looked at him patronizingly, "Daddy you are such a dork, you forgot already?" Pointing towards herself she said, "Grace asked when you learned to play this very difficult game."

"Uh… I… uh… never mind"

"But daddy, I mind. I mind no?" she looked towards her mommy for confirmation and Marissa couldn't stop the laughter from escaping her lips. Hearing Marissa's silent giggles, he scowled at her. Then knowing it wouldn't help his cause at all, he begged with her over Grace's shoulder, to do something, anything, to get their daughter to stop. Finally, she took pity on him.

"Okay, who wants cookies?"

That diverted Grace instantly and she completely forgot about their earlier conversation. "Really?" she looked towards Marissa with hungry, hopeful blue eyes, "like for breakfast?"

"Yup, for breakfast" Marissa confirmed, scooping her up in her arms and walked towards the door, "In fact, you get two. Because you managed to call daddy something that nobody has managed to call in like ever without getting injured."

"And what is that?" Ryan called from the bed.

Marissa threw a laughing look over his shoulder, carrying their ever-inquisitive daughter on her hips as she sashayed out of the room, a mischievious glint lighting her blue eyes. "A dork!"

_Really, one Marissa was difficult enough to handle,_ he groaned falling back onto the covers, _why had he agreed to two?_

_------_

He was tired.

He had had a long day at work, everything he had planned to do had gone on hold due to some problem or the other, his secretary had called in sick and then he had been stuck in the damn traffic for two whole hours. Rubbing his neck tiredly to get the kinks out of them, he dropped his keys in their usual place, shrugged out of his jacket and loosened his tie as he made his way into their kitchen.

The sight that greeted him gave him an abrupt pause and a slow smile spread on his lips.

Marissa was humming something to herself, as she pattered around their kitchen trying to cook them a meal, music blaring through her earphones. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, her eyes were blissfully closed, and she was dancing to its tune moving her hands in circles around her body. Looking at her rapturous expression, he felt all of his earlier exhaustion melt away at her sight and happiness filled his heart.

"Hey you…" he whispered in her ear, slipping his arms around her waist. For a moment her body stiffened, before it recognized his familiar arms and she leaned back against him.

"Hey…" she softly greeted back. Removing her earphones, she turned in his arms and a worried frown creased her eyebrows as she took in his tired expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really, just… hard day" his arms tightened around her and he softly kissed her forehead, "but the day is getting better and better". It never ceased to amaze him, how just holding her in his arms made him feel better, made him feel like he was… home.

For a moment they just stood like that, enjoying being in each others presence, as they allowed the familiarity and the comfort to envelope them. They had come a long way so that they could enjoy these uninterrupted moments of bliss. Looking back to their teenage years they had always hoped, but never thought that they would have _this _one day. Their life had seemed so complicated then, but standing here, holding her in his arms, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Marissa, and knowing that she was alright, that their kids were alright… it had all been worth it.

"So the house looks silent?" he questioned looking around.

"Yeah, thankfully I got Grace to take a nap, she wanted to know why the elephants can't be pink because she likes both the color pink and the elephants, but she doesn't like the color grey or pigs." Looking at Ryan's confused expression, she immediately shot his next question down, "don't ask me how she came up with that, but I do know that she just wouldn't let it go" Marissa heaved an exaggerated sigh causing Ryan to choke back a laugh, "I swear she is the most stubborn person I have ever seen".

Ryan smirked. "Wonder where she gets that from…"

"Okay… I believe there is a dig in there somewhere but I am going to let that go, coz we have more pressing problems than that. Jason got…"

No sooner were the words even out of her mouth that their fifteen-year-old son came bounding down the stairs. Catching sight of his dad, a broad smile swept across his face.

"Hey dad," He said, in that irritatingly cool drawl that teenagers sported these days.

"Hey…" Ryan ruffled his hair and they shared a high-five "so how was school?"

"He got into a fight today". Marissa folded her arms across her chest and glared pointedly at their son. It wasn't that he was a difficult teenager, well, not by Newport standards anyways. He got into small, little fracas, normal for any teenager, but he didn't drink, didn't smoke, played ball, was reasonably popular and well adjusted and got good grades. But lately, he was exhibiting a freakish tendency to get into brawls and fights.

He looked from Marissa's furious expression, to Jason's guilty one. "What? Why?"

"Yes Jason…" Marissa raised her eyebrows challengingly, "why don't you tell your dad exactly 'why' you got into that fight?"

Ryan leaned on the counter until he was eye level with his son and fixed him with a quelling glare. "Explain." He said, in a low angry voice.

Jason cowered under his dad's gaze, his expression becoming guilty and contrite. "Whoa, whoa, dad, stop with the look thing. It is scaring me"

"Good. It should." Ryan said angrily. "We've been over this once; we've been over this a hundred times. You cannot get into fights."

"Okay dad, I know that" Jason said, putting his arms up in surrender, "I swear I didn't want to do it, but there was this kid. He was getting beaten up by a couple of guys in school. What was I supposed to do? Stay back and not do anything?"

Ryan's expression softened at that. He could certainly understand it, he didn't condone it, but he didn't blame him for it. "Okay. I am going to let it go just this once, but if I ever hear this again…"

"You won't dad". Jason said immediately,"I swear"

"Good". Ryan gave him a small smile. "Now why don't you go and wake up your sister so that we can all have dinner?"

Jason was out the kitchen door in a shot.

"So that was handled well…" Marissa said coming over and standing next to him as she looked up at him. Her soft hands rubbed his back comfortingly, "you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just… I don't want him to have the same issues that I had as a kid." When she stared up at him like that, it struck him anew how well she knew him.

They never talked about that night, the night that still had the capacity to scare the shit out of him, the night when Volchok had driven their car off the road.. For three whole days he hadn't been able to breathe, for three whole days he hadn't been able to live. When he had seen her like that… it was the only time when he had been so broken, that tears had streamed down his face. But, it was also the night that had eventually changed it all.

Through all the mess that had happened in that one night, there was one realization that had glared at them, dazzling like gold. There was no way that they would ever be able to live without each other, and somehow that realization had cemented their entire relationship in a way that nothing else had been able to. It was as if an epiphany had suddenly hit both of them. It had been reckless, it had been emotional, and it had been something that he never would otherwise do, but that was the night when he had proposed, and a week later, they had been married. They had gone to Berkeley as planned and two years later, to everyone's surprise Jason was born. Although it had been difficult, with his classes and a job that he had taken, and Marissa having deferred classes for a year, they had managed and they had been happy. Four years later, he had graduated in architecture, and year later Marissa had graduated in fashion and design and they had never looked back after that. They had come back to Newport when jimmy had died, and they both had worked their asses off to get to where they were.

"You ever think of that night?" she whispered against his chest and he wasn'y surprised by it. She had an uncanny awareness of exactly what he was thinking.

"Sometimes…" he replied back honestly, his arms tightening around her "I keep thinking what would have happened that night if you had actually died and I keep thinking how whatever had happened with Volchok was my fault. If I hadn't hit him at prom, and if I had gone to sandy instead of stealing that car none of it would have happened. And I see so much of myself in Jason, I can't allow him to make the same mistakes that I did. I can't lose you… lose any of you…"

"you wont"

Ryan knew he wouldn't, because he would kill, before he allowed anything or anyone ro hurt her again...

-------

"Mommy, I does not like 'pas-ghe-tti'. I wants chocolate"

They were all sitting down at the dinner table and their five year old daughter, Grace, was creating a ruckus, throwing her 'pas-ghe-tti' everywhere. Marissa sighed, bending down to her level and gently wiped her mouth where her 'pas-ghe-tti' was sticking.

"Sweetie, its not 'pas-ghe-tti'. Its spa-ghe-tti and I will give you that chocolate only if you promise to finish it"

"The spa-pas-tti is yucky. Do I havta mommy?" Grace whined, blinking her big, blue eyes up at her.

"Yes" Marissa said, laughing and ruffling her hair, and pinched her cheeks playfully. "You have to, but I know a big, yummy chocolate cake with a little girls called Grace's name written on it"

Catching his father staring intently at his mom's and sisters interaction, Jason mused, "They look cute together, don't they?"

"Yeah", Ryan said, his voice softening and becoming husky unbeknownst to him, "I don't know where one begins and the other ends; they are so much alike. The same blonde hair, the same blue eyes…"

"Hey, dad…" Jason said in a low voice, "can I ask you a question?"

Ryan turned his attention to his son, catching his troubled face and a frown creased his brow, "sure, whatsup?"

"It's just… you remember this guy that I was telling you about earlier? The one that was getting beaten up when I… intervened?"

"Yeah?" he could feel Marissa's eyes upon them and he knew that she was listening.

"Well, see, it was the weirdest thing really. I mean, you know you get the feeling that someone is weak or cant defend himself, well he wasn't weak, or even a geek. He looked like he could really take on those kids. And they were abusing his parents or something, but he didn't say a thing, not a word. He just silently listened to all that they were telling and then calm as he may walked off. I was watching the whole scene, when the boys came after him and started beating him up. But still he didn't say or do anything, just walked off once again. I have never seen a guy do that before".

"It takes a lot of strength to walk off." Ryan said looking at Marissa and catching her gaze as they silently communicated.

"what happened then?" she asked.

"I don't know, mom, after that we got to talking, I think he lives with his dad and his mom is no more, I don't know, but the way he said it, it was like he was purposely avoiding any personal topic, like some parts of it were scary even to him. it definitely scared me… he looked so hurt, even though I think he always puts up a brave face, but in that moment I really wanted to do something, to help somehow".

The one thing that Jason had inherited from Marissa was her heart so it was completely natural for him to want to help out this kid. He always thought with his heart and that Ryan knew was a recipe for trouble.

"Who is he?" Ryan asked.

"Uhh… some weird new transfer student named Seejay."

------------

_A/N: there is a little blue lutton to the side. click it! you know you want to._


	3. Chapter 3

_First things first, let me wish you a _**VEEEEERRRRY MEEEERRRRY CHRRRRISTMAAAAS!!!!**_ Or in this case, let's all be a little faithful to our favorite show, The OC, and wish each other a _**merry Chrismukkah!**_ Let the Jesus and the Moses be on our side on this very auspicious holiday. _

_Secondly, let us mourn the loss of the great Benazir Bhutto, who was assassinated on the 28__th__ december'2007 for fighting against the same issues that are still plaguing the world; one in particular- 'terrorism'. (No connection here, but that was me venting my feelings on such a sad demise)_

_So this story has a Christmas chapter which I was hoping to upload by this day but I have been a bit lazy… okay, a lot lazy… so I haven't been able to do it. I will do it by next week. Think you guys can forgive me? Well, I think so; it is the holidays after all. This chapter is a bit dark and a bit long, and Seejay gets introduced into it. Hope you enjoy and don't get bored.)_

…..

"Ry…"

The voice was a soft whisper in the silky darkness of their bedroom.

"Ryan…"

The voice rose an octave, irritating and nagging and urgent.

Then soft, familiar hands started shaking him, "Ryan, Ryan, wake up!"

For a moment, his sleep-befuddled mind could not really comprehend what was happening, and then all of a sudden he realized that urgent voice was Marissa's and he instantly sat up on the bed, the cover falling off his body due to his haste. His eyes immediately sought out their bedside clock, which blinked 3.00 am up at him.

"What?" he gasped, turning around and expecting to see an earthquake or an apocalypse to have hit the earth. Instead, he saw his very cute… if a little nagging wife sitting cross-legged beside him, staring at him, with wide, speculative, and very awake eyes.

"Are you alright? What's wrong?" he asked in concern, his voice hoarse because of sleep.

"I am fine." she instantly reassured him, then bit her lips softly and gave him an apologetic sort of a look, "it's just… I wanted to talk…"

"Talk?" he repeated dumbly as if the word was alien and foreign to him.

She shook her head firmly at him; her hair falling over her face like a golden waterfall, as she silently affirmed the truth of those words.

"Marissa…" he groaned, as he fell back onto the covers and pinched the root of his nose in frustration, his eyes seeking out their bedside clock just to make sure he hadn't made any mistakes. "Its 3.00 in the morning… The only people awake at this godforsaken hour are the burglars. And unless you feel like robbing someone, in which case I'll totally back you up, considering the amount of money you spend, we'll talk tomorrow". He finished his speech in what he hoped to be a very no-nonsense, finite way, then turned back onto his side, pulled the covers firmly over his head, and shut his eyes determinedly.

"Ryan…" Of course, she didn't listen to him. She would not have been Marissa, if she had.

He ignored her.

"Ryan, common" she poked at his back, "I am serious".

"I know baby, nobody said you weren't serious," he soothed, his voice muffled from under the covers, "But think how much more serious we can be, if we talk, say… tomorrow?"

"Okay." For once, she seemed to have accepted it without argument and Ryan felt a sigh of relief escape his mouth. She leaned against him and ran her hand through his hair softly, and he closed his eyes in blissful surrender. Just as he was drifting towards that oblivion he so desperately craved, lulled into a false sense of security by her warm snuggled body, her hands jerked on his hair a bit too harshly and he let out a howl of pain.

"Oww. Oww. What was that for?" he instantly sat up on bed and turned around, his hands flying up to his head to rub the sore spot.

"I am sorry sweetie, did that hurt?" she smiled sweetly up at him, her voice dripping sugar as her eyes innocently blinked back. "I was just trying to help you '_sleep'_." The last word sounded more like a threat to him.

Ryan let out a groan; well it was more of a moan because of his pain and heaved a frustrated sigh, his mind acknowledging that he didn't have a choice. He really should have listened to Sandy when he had said 'don't ever get married'. "Okay, I am up. I am up" He whispered, dragging his body out of the covers and shaking his head to clear it. He pulled her onto his lap, adjusting their positions in a more comfortable manner. "Now, what do you want to talk about?"

Finally having gotten her way, she gave him a brilliant smile for his efforts. "its just…" her next words got lost somewhere between her gasp and the tingle passing through her entire body as Ryan slipped his hands inside her lingerie and cupped her breasts firmly, rubbing them over and over.

"Ryan…" she giggled, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing" he whispered casually, his mouth trailing a path of fiery kisses down the column of her back. "I am just making sure I get as much out of it as you do. Really, 3.00 in the morning…" he nipped at her earlobe teasingly, "the things you make me do…"

"I…" She slapped his hands away and linked her arm through his neck, staring at him imploringly. "I am sorry about waking you up. It's just… I was worried and I couldn't sleep…"

"Worried?" Ryan craned his neck and met her eyes in concern, giving her a questioning look, "worried about what?"

"Jason's new friend… Seejay," she said bluntly.

Ryan's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion at her statement. As far as he was concerned Seejay had just been a vague name mentioned during dinner that night. "He is just a kid that Jason helped, right? I don't see why you are worried."

"Well, not worried exactly." She corrected herself. She wasn't really sure why she was spending a sleepless night. It was more of a feeling, really. Nothing concrete that she could explain but something kept troubling her, refusing to let go. Okay, so it was slightly underhanded and maybe, a little cruel of her to have woken up her husband to share her not so firm insecurities, but all throughout the past 20 years, she had come to value his judgment implicitly, and she wanted to know if Ryan had gotten similar vibes. "I am more… apprehensive. I mean, we don't really know much about the guy. He is clearly not from around here and the way Jace described him… he seems so dark. And Jason is just a little boy."

"Marissa, Jason is 15." Ryan gently corrected her, as his eyes softened looking at her troubled face, "And frankly speaking, if he feels like he has to hang out with someone other than these rich, Newport, trust fund kids, then I am actually quite happy about it. Besides," he teased, "you didn't seem to mind much when I came into your life and I was definitely darker."

"But that was different." She immediately shot him down, running her hands over his wide chest and hugging him tightly, "I always knew you were different."

"Well, yeah. The kid hasn't burnt down any houses yet, nor has he stolen any cars." Ryan joked, stroking her hair softly, "So relax. Until I hear about any burnt houses or stolen cars, we have nothing to worry about. Besides, we are going to go to Jason's inter-school Football match tomorrow. I'll check him out then, okay?"

Marissa allowed Ryan to cajole her back, but she was going to make sure that he checked him out just the same, "Okay."

"Now…" he wriggled his eyebrows mischievously at her, "can we please get back to thing we were doing before your paranoia can interrupt us again?"

"What? You mean sleep?" she teased then shrieked when Ryan effortlessly picked her up and pushed her flat on her back before moving over and silencing her in time honored way.

……

My backpack is heavy, my feet are dragging along the pristine roads, and my head is killing me, as I amble over home from school. It isn't that I am tired, although I am, it isn't that my body is sore and bruised making it difficult for me to walk, although it probably is, it is the very fact that I am going home from school that is making my feet feel like lead and each step in front of the other, a chore. I will never tell anyone, but school is my escape…

Escape from my life at home.

I pick out a pebble from the road kicking it as hard as I can, my thoughts drifting over to my first day at school. I had expected it to be difficult, I had expected to be picked at; I just hadn't realized how brutal these Newport, trust fund kids could be. It was like they were purposely targeting me because I wasn't cut off the same mold that they all measured themselves against. I don't really care about that. In the scheme of things in my life, getting picked at, at school is the least of my worries. But then this kid came from nowhere, hit the tallest guy in the crowd and told everyone else to back off. God, does he have a mean right hook! Nobody has ever stood up for me like that and it felt kind of… nice.

What was his name he said? Ah yes! Jason.

He asked me where I was from and who my parents were… too many questions I cant answer, at least not if I have to prevent my dad's secret from spilling out. So I just shook my head in a silent 'thanks' telling him without words to back off, and then walked away.

He came after me though, and this time he didn't ask me any questions. We just sort of… talked. He told me about Newport, about how the people are over here. He said it can get a bit overwhelming living here, because of the shallowness of the people, and he said, sometimes he gets tired of it all. Nevertheless, he also said that, there are some very good people over here. Then he told me about his family; he got this soft kind of a look in his eyes, and I knew they were some very special people. I could see how much he loved them and how much he was loved. God, how I envy such kids.

I told him a little bit about myself then... well, not any details or anything, just stuff that I like. He is the first person I ever told that I loved music, that on a good day I can play really well. He didn't mock me or anything… he just sort of listened.

And, for a moment it almost felt like he was my … 'friend'. Of course, that's stupid. I don't do friends. They have a tendency to ask a lot of questions about my life, my dad. Facts that I want to keep under wrap. Sometimes I wish though, that I didn't have to. That I could shout from the rooftops that my life sucked.

It happened again today… the thing that I dread the most…

I opened the door to my house, the door to 'my reality' and saw my dad standing near our kitchen counter, all the unwashed dishes broken on the floor and a weird look in his eyes.

'He' glanced at me accusatorily and asked me where I had been; as if he had forgotten that I go to school, as if he had forgotten that the whole reason we are here is because of him. His eyes were glazed, there was a wild desperation in his eyes, and his whole body was shaking. From years of experience, I knew he was high. I wonder where he got this new stash from; I thought that I had thrown away the last.

"You left me" he whispered, his voice like that of a small, petulant child. "You are going to leave me and go, just like everyone else. Every body." he banged his head on the tabletop and I flinched. "Leaves. Me". He shouted.

I desperately tried to reassure him, "I won't dad, I wont. I promise."

I was so worried that he would hurt himself that I almost didn't catch his hands inching towards the knife. By the time I saw, he was already holding the kitchen knife in his hands, waving it around threateningly.

"Dad!" I freaked, shouting and running over to where he was standing, "dad, put that down right now!"

He stared at me beadily, his eyes looking wildly around. "You know I don't like it when you leave me. I told you to never leave me."

"Okay, okay, dad, I am sorry. I won't leave you again, I promise, I promise, please just put that down, okay? Please?" I said anything that came to my mind, just to calm him down, just so that he will put that thing away. I inched slowly towards him, my feet barely making any sound on the rough floor, my eyes still fixed unwaveringly on that knife.

He laughed, that manic laugh that I have come to hate so much. For one crazed moment, I really thought that he was going to do it. I could see it in his eyes, I could see that he was contemplating; I could see that his lips were licking in anticipation.

I locked my eyes onto him and hoped that mine weren't showing the fear that I was feeling. My breathing was becoming ragged, wild panic was entering my eyes, and I knew that one more second and I was going to burst, either startling him into killing himself, or killing me!

Finally, after what seemed like an interminably long moment, he stepped aside and put it down, His glazed eyes had return to a normal color "I am sorry, I am so sorry, Seejay." He pleaded, "I didn't want to do it, I swear".

I had nothing to say to that, no words of comfort to whisper.

"Dad, its time for your medication" I whispered instead, making sure he swallowed all of them in front of my eyes. I ambled over to my room and just sort of crashed onto my bed after that.

It isn't the first time that it has happened. He has once gone to jail for attempted murder and has been hospitalized twice for attempted suicide. He ran away from the last. That's why we have to keep moving from one place to another.

Sometimes, I feel so tired…

Honestly, sometimes I feel like just walking out the door and never looking back.

But then I think of my dad…

He is all that I have, and he needs me. And, I'll be damned before I let those other people drag him back to the asylum. I'll do anything I can to protect him.

He is the only family I have… I love him almost as much as I hate him. I am a part of him, and sometimes I wonder if I can be just like him? I am not! I am not! I am not… I am not, right? And the world is spinning now, and my thoughts are taunting me…

God, I need an escape. I pull out the bottle and take a long, burning swig. The world is fading and my thoughts slowly become silent until they are nothing but a distant whirr and then everything turns blank...

It feels so nice…

…….

It was a packed stadium. Parents, teachers, relatives, students, occupied every single seat and there was a lot of shouting, screaming and jeering. It was the final match between the Pacific and Harbor high and because of the traditional rivalry between the two schools; players were playing to draw blood. Naturally, it drew an even greater amount of crowd.

Ryan and Marissa made their way over to the front row, their eyes scanning the players below for their son, their hands filled with bags of sodas and chili fries as Grace bouncing high up on Ryan's shoulder, hitting on her dad's head pretending that it was a drum. Ryan was too involved in the players warm up for him to pay much attention. Watching his son play always filled him with so much pride and excitement that he was barely able to concentrate on anything else.

"Here, give her to me." Marissa said, eyeing Ryan unsuccessfully trying to flick their daughter's, small demolishing hands away. Sitting down, she took Grace from his arms much against her tantrums and wails and set her down firmly on her lap.

"Daddy," Gracie pulled at Ryan's shirt determined to have her dad's attention. She hated it when he wasn't paying her attention. She was supposed to be their princess wasn't she? "Daddy, can I tell mommy about the rules now?" she said impatiently.

That got Ryan's attention very quick, "Oh, I almost forgot about those." He grinned at Marissa, his eyes having a wicked glint as he gave Grace Thumbs up sign, motioning her to continue.

"What rules?" Marissa gave the pair of mischief mongers a questioning look, genuinely confused, as she pulled her baby things out from her tote bag. There was a Share-bear that Grace never went anywhere without, there was her baby food, she wasn't really allowed to eat anything from outside because she kept ill many times and there was her blanket, which they had always learnt to carry incase she slept off.

"The rules that you havta follow mommy, if you are being allowed to watch the game. Daddy and Jay made them up when you were upstairs. I am being given the respawansitybility of telling them to you." She puffed up her small chest importantly, unaware that her mom's eyebrow's had shot upwards and her eyes had darkened with anger.

"Oh they did, did they?" Marissa drawled sarcastically, her flashing blue eyes fixed on Ryan, even as she addressed her question to Grace.

Grace nodded in confirmation, looking from her dad's laughing blue eyes to her mom's furious ones. Then remembering that she was supposed to be actually explaining the rules too, she slapped on her forehead for her stupidity and said, "Rule no 1 is you cannot threaten Jay's coach with grandma Julie every time Jay gets tackled."

"Very good" Ryan looked on proudly at his daughter, even as his blue eyes laughed at his wife's growing ire.

Marissa scowled. "I don't do that."

"Riss…" Ryan chuckled, smirking at her knowingly "I still have those nail marks on my left hand from the last time I tried to hold you back."

"And you'll have even more of those if you don't shut up."

That shut him up quickly. "Okay… we'll move on to the next rule." he said hurriedly, looking at Grace.

Grace helpfully obliged, nodding her small blonde head in her dad's direction in a regal manner. "Well, rule no. 2 is that mommy cannot run onto the stadium to hug and kiss Jason if Jason wins the match."

"When did I do that?" Marissa asked incredulously.

Ryan gave her a withering look. "Do you remember the last time at all?"

"Okay, so maybe I was a little enthusiastic" Marissa acknowledged at long length, "But hey, he played really well."

"Okay, well, you can't do that this time even if he plays really well" Ryan stated laughing, then raised his hand in mock surrender when he saw her start to argue, "This wasn't my rule. It was all Jason." "Although…" He paused, giving her a cheeky grin, "I wouldn't mind a hug and a kiss."

"But you wouldn't get one." Marissa retorted back, her blue eyes flashing. Really making up rules, and then teaching their daughter to do their dirty work was bit… too much!

"Not even a small one?" Ryan pouted cutely at her and Marissa couldn't help her lips from curling in a small smile at his adorable expression. Well, what woman could resist… THAT? She drew his head down and gave him a soft kiss.

Ryan licked his lips where they had touched, seemingly satisfied with that, as he turned towards Grace, "okay, tell us the last and most important rule."

"Well," she scrunched up her face as she tried to remember, "Mommy cannot slap daddy's hand away every time daddy tries to eat his 'own' box of chili fries." Her eyebrows drew together in a frown because the next words were completely foreign to her, "and mommy cannot pout, cajole, bribe, shout, or hit him into giving up his own fries. And if by some miratle…"

"'miracle', sweetie" Ryan corrected helpfully.

"das whas I said, daddy. By some mieacle, mommy's hand finds her way into daddy's fries, she has to give daddy one kiss for every fry"

"Hey!" Marissa shouted indignantly and Ryan began laughing. He couldn't help it. There was hardly a movie or a match that they had watched together where she hadn't managed to procure his fries one way or the other. He decided this was a very useful rule.

Thankfully, the referee announced the start of the match before she could start throwing those very same fries at his head and he heaved a silent prayer of thanks. For the next one hour, they forgot about everything, the fights, the rules, everything except the face of their son as he was playing the game. Marissa's nails were biting into his arm as she hid her face every time Jason was tackled, Ryan forgot that he was sitting a million miles away as he shouted instructions and encouragements, and Grace was bouncing up and down her feet, not really understanding the game, but mimicking her parents expressions as accurately as she could. She was cheering when they were cheering, solemn when they were solemn, and she so enjoyed the cheerleader's performance that she was even trying to mimic that. Her small arms flailing she tried to do cartwheels but ended up falling flat on her dad's lap, and for a moment Ryan and Marissa got distracted from the game as they both shared a laugh.

It happened in a split second. Nobody had time to react.

Ryan's laughing face turned towards the stadium and he saw, as if in slow motion, Jason's leg trip and his whole body stumble as he fell onto the rough field flat on his back, blood poring through the deep gash on his face. He heard Marissa's gasp at his side, he heard Grace's sob as she clutched at his hand, both of them moving towards the field desperately at the same time.

Even before they could reach, a young boy with brown hair and dark eyes was rapidly applying pressure on his wound. For a long, pregnant moment no one spoke. It felt like the longest silence of Ryan's life. Then finally Jason's blue eyes opened and a gasp of relief shot through him. Jason gave them a small smile and it broke the tension. Everyone started talking at the same time. Jason spluttered, coughed and groaned, before clutching his dad's shoulder and slowly standing up. Immediately Marissa enveloped him in a hug, her hands flowing through his face repeatedly to reassure herself, her eyes filled with tears that slowly dripped. "if you ever scare us like that…"

"Hey mom, I am okay, I am alright. Truly."

Jason tried to reassure his mom and dad, even as his eyes caught the lone boy standing few feet away as he watched the entire interaction. He clutched at his dad's arm and motioned towards the boy with dark hair and brown eyes, same boy who had applied timely pressure to his wound boy. "Hey dad, meet my friend, Seejay."

Ryan's eyes clashed with that of Seejay's, unwavering blue against unwavering brown, and he thought as if he was looking at his past. He shook the feeling away, gratitude overcoming every other emotion."Thank you." He whispered truthfully, walking towards him and shaking his hand.

He received a small, uncomfortable smile. "Uh… Don't mention it."

-----

I didn't really know what else to say. My first reaction was to run. I am not even sure why I came running down in the first place, except... Jason stood up for me yesterday and i couldn't really leave him like that. I had to do something even if it was just somethign as infinitesmal as applying pressure on the wound. Maybe it was a reflex from years of living with my dad. His mom came over then and hugged me tight, whispering her thank-you, and i didnt really know what to do, except flail my arms around like a fish caught out of water.Jason and his dad started laughing at my awkwardness, and I felt a small smile curve my lips in response. She invited me over to their house someday, something that I cant ever accept. They ask me about my dad, something that i couldn't answer. I just nodded my head silently to everything and went back to pretending that I dont exist.

It is going to be easier that way for everyone around.

……..

_(Well, if you have reached the bottom of this stupendously huge chapter, I am guessing your hands will automatically move towards the blue button. After all, you don't want your effort to be wasted, due you? The next chapter is Christmas at the Atwood home and it is completely fluffy. It'll bring Seth, Summer, Sandy, Kirsten, Julie and maybe Kaitlyn into the picture… and a surprise guest. Well in other words… havoc!)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(very imp A/N: my comp went berserk the day i updated teh document and it was only today that irealised it was the wrong one! for all those who read and reviewd, thank you. but hope, you'l like this one too.)_

_(A/N: For this particular fic, I wanted Seth to be a lawyer. I hope that's okay with everyone.) _

Christmases in Newport could rarely be called traditional or… genuine, for that matter.

After all, When you had no idea who was next of kin to your husband, or if you had already slept with your brother-in-law, or you had a boob job to get to; it being a Christmas gift from your fifth husband whose one feet was in the grave or charity functions to attend wearing newly bought, designer-labeled red and green bikinis, who needed cozy fires and watching the snow through the windows drinking hot chocolate and singing carols with the entire family, right?

Wrong.

To Marissa Atwood, Christmas meant long nights wrapped up in her husbands arms as they watched the twinkling sky. It meant slow sensuous love and fast, rapid breaths as she stared into his gorgeous blue eyes. It meant watching the priceless smile on her daughter's face as she waited for Santa to come bearing all her gifts. It meant sitting in front of a cozy fire singing Christmas carols and drinking eggnogs, it meant Jason's excited thanks as he saw his first car. It meant Seth's sarcastic quips, summer's 'oh baby's' and warm hugs, it meant Sandy's unquestioning support and Kirsten's love, it meant the new found closeness with her mom, that they had both formed after her dad's death. It meant so many things that she had never had as a child.

In short, it meant a family filled with laughter, happiness, and love.

And to think she had once thought 'she didn't need Christmas!'

Pssfft…

Who was she… the Grinch?

Balancing the huge, somewhat old, dusty cardboard box on top of her hips, she sauntered into their kitchen and came to an abrupt halt. She felt a slow smile start across her face and a warmth spread through her heart as she saw the scene unfolding in front of her.

With Grace on top of his shoulder and their son held in a playful, vice like grip, her husband 'the tough guy' was wearing a red pointed Christmas hat and his Berkeley sweatshirt arguing the merits and demerits of the perfect spot for their huge, crispy fresh Christmas tree.

"Hmmm… the tree looks perfect." She proclaimed, silencing their animated argument as she walked into their living room.

Instantly three pair of blue eyes swiveled around to stare at her.

"See that's what I was telling dad." Jason agreed, with a nod of his head. "But he keeps asking me to push it more to the right."

"No mommy," Grace instantly whined, "I think it should be more to the left.

"I think it should be more to the right." Ryan pronounced finally, running his hand across his jaw, characteristic of his contemplative mode "That's its sweet spot."

She raised her eyebrows at his words. Did he just say 'sweet spot'?

"Nope." she grinned at him and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, "the tree stays where it is."

Absently rubbing the spot where she had kissed as if he was in a daze he considered his options. Well, he could argue with her… and lose, or he could give in and act like the better man. Yup, definitely the latter. Pulling her into his arms, he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Okay…"

Jason rolled his eyes at his dad and he was just about to make a fitting retort when his eyes fell on the old, dusty cardboard box that his mom had placed under the tree. "Mother, might those be the Chrismukkah presents?" he asked piqued, eyeing the box with raised eyebrows.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Marissa grinned slyly, and sat down next to Ryan on the rug. "Although I am surprised that you didn't recognize it. You spent hours looking through the contents of this box when you were a kid."

Jason took a closer look, then gasped in recognition, "Oh, it's 'the box'! I had totally forgotten…"

"Thankfully, so had I…" Ryan sighed exaggeratedly, "At least until your mom decided to torture me into getting up on that ladder and practically search the whole attic again."

"Shut up!" Marissa retorted, jabbing him lightly in his chest. "You like it."

Ryan clutched his chest playfully and teased. "Do I really have a choice?"

"No." she laughed.

Grace eyes circled from her dad, to her mom, to Jason, to the box that everyone was talking about. Apparently everyone knew what it contained, and that made her that much more curious about it. She imagined all the wonderful things that it might hold and she couldn't contain her anticipation any longer. "What is THAT?" she asked, staring at the mysteriously appealing box with excitement.

"Glad you asked." Marissa grinned, turning to look at her daughter's inquisitive face. She pulled the box towards them and patted the ground besides her indicating for her daughter to sit down. "Now THAT" She declared with a wink, "is the famous Atwood tradition."

Grace eyes widened in excitement and surprise, "We have a tradition? What is it? Why didn't I know before?" she said rapidly, her words all coming too fast for her small mouth.

"Whoa whoa, slow down", Ryan and Marissa exchanged a laughing glance. They had spent the last Christmas at Seth and Summer's and the year before at Sandy and Kirsten, incidentally the only two Christmases that Grace could consciously remember since she had been too small before, so she had no idea about this box. It wasn't even really a tradition. Marissa just liked to call it that.

Marissa opened the box, and Grace did not even wait a second before her head popped inside to unravel its contents.

"They are… uggh" her face fell in disappointment as she saw what was inside. She had expected to see something beautiful, something even pretty, but all she saw were a lot of old photo albums, some movie tickets and… "….Christmas decorations? They aren't even very pretty."

"They aren't just Christmas decorations, squirt." Jason admonished her, in his all-knowing, big brother superior kind of way. "Everything in there has a special meaning to both dad and mom." He looked towards Ryan and Marissa for confirmation and was rewarded with a smile.

"That's true." Marissa said, removing a huge, white faded handmade dove and handing it to Jace, "See this dove over here," she started but couldn't immediately continue, as she looked at Ryan, a deluge of memories assaulting them both and she fell silent…

_"Ryan!" a nine month pregnant Marissa had exclaimed, the moment the front door of their small apartment in Berkeley opened. _

_Ryan was rib breaking, back aching exhausted after finishing the two jobs that he had taking during the holiday season so that he could support both Marissa and their unborn child. "What baby?" he answered tiredly, wanting nothing more than to lie down and go off to sleep. _

_"Come here, quick." _

_Apparently, that was not an option right now. He walked into their living room- come- bedroom to see Marissa sprawled across the rug under a small but tastefully decorated Christmas tree. _

_"You are showing me the tree that we both went and got yesterday?" he sarcastically asked, as he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. _

_Marissa rolled her eyes. "Not the tree, babe, look at that." she pointed to something, which to Ryan was totally inconspicuous. The only thing he could make out was that it was definitely ugly. _

_"Uhhh…what is that?" he asked her, baffled. _

_"It's a Christmas decoration." She proclaimed enthusiastically. "I made it while I was waiting for you to come home." _

_"That's ummm…" he tried to find an appropriate alternative to 'ugly' "umm … nice?" _

_"Shut up." Marissa retorted, "its better than nice. And you better agree to it or else you are sleeping on the couch tonight." _

_"When you put it like that…" he teased as he kissed the tip of her nose mischievously, "it's beautiful…" _

_Marissa began laughing… but her laugh was strangled half way as an intense pain suddenly rocked her body. "Oh my god, Ryan!" she screamed, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. _

_"What it is? Marissa, what is it?" Ryan asked desperately, worriedly. "Tell me what's wrong." he saw even before he heard her explanations. "Shit! Your water just broke!" _

_The next two hours were a blur for both of them. He didn't remember much of it, all he remembered was that there was a lot of screaming, and he suspected he was the one doing it more than Marissa as pain after pain racked her frail body. And after what seemed like forever, it was over and a tiny blonde hair, blue eyed boy was in there arms and as Ryan sat down beside her on that small bed, while she held there baby and nursed it, the baby's tiny hands holding her breasts tightly, he knew what heaven was._

_"he is…" the words got choked somewhere at the back of his throat, his lips suddenly dry with an emotion that he couldn't quite define, his eyes glazed as he looked at both of them, "wow." _

_Marissa laughed through her tears. "This is the most beautiful day of my life. I never want to forget this moment, ever." _

_"I so know what you mean." Ryan smiled. _

_"You know what we should do?" she exclaimed suddenly, "Remember that ugly dove that I made…" _

_"That was a dove?" Ryan joked, "It looked more like a pig." _

_"Shut up!" Marissa continued undeterred, "We should go and buy a better one, and hang it on our tree to remember this day by. And for every other important day in our life, we should buy a new one. So that when we are old and gray, and we look at all the decorations that have accumulated over the years, we can remember those moments…" _

_Only Marissa could come up with something so cheesy and heart wrenching at the same time. "Actually I think, we should keep the dove that you made." He smiled, "it holds a certain fondness for me after today." _

_They both smiled and kissed Jason at the same time and just like that, another memory was made. _

Thinking about that day was… nostalgic, for a lack of appropriate word. So many memories… they had truly come a long way. She felt tears glisten at the back of her eyes and Ryan who was now sprawled sideways beside her, rubbed her back gently. "See, it has Jason's name written on It." she pointed it to Grace, "We had it the day Jason was born." She explained and her eyes clashed with her son's. he looked so grown up now, and to think that day he was so tiny… She couldn't help it as she pulled Jason towards her and gave him a quick kiss.

Jason recoiled from it rapidly giving her a horror struck glance, "God, mom, please! Never ever do that again!" he scoffed. However even as he retorted, his hands automatically found their way to the dove and stroked it softly, before placing it at the highest part of the tree.

"But, what about me?" feeling left out and out of the loop, Grace complained.

Ryan smiled as he picked her up in his arms. "You… are our very own Golden angel." handing her the beautiful angel he watched her scrutinize it from all directions.

"It's pretty."

Marissa tipped her nose with her forefinger, "just like you."

"Okay mommy, now I want to put this above Jason's"

Jason quickly counteracted her plea. "You can't reach so far, squirt."

Hands on her hip, she stared up at her brother, "pick me up." She ordered.

"Nope, no can do."

She turned towards her daddy, "daddy, ask him to pick me up."

"And why would I want to do that?" Ryan teased, "Coz, I know of a girl who didn't even think they were very pretty."

"But that girl is no more." indicating to herself she gave him a wide smile. "This girl lur…ves it."

Ryan picked her up and blew raspberry's on her stomach until she laughed. "Oh this girl lur…ves it, does she?"

"Daddy… daddy… stop. It tickles."

Seejay stood frozen in the open doorway, unable to either fully move away or completely come inside. He knew he should get the hell out of here, he knew standing here watching them interact was intrusive and an invasion of their privacy, but he just couldn't make his feet obey the commands of his mind. There was something so heartwarming about the scene unfolding in front of him, that simply by standing here he felt an ache in his heart. He should have listened to the voice inside his head that had told him that he didn't need to return Jason's pen drive any time soon. But the front door had been open and… He shook his head to clear it, and was just about to get the hell away, when he heard Jason's surprised voice call out.

"Seejay?"

He turned around slowly, expecting to be the recipient of angry glances from all four of them. After all, he had invaded their privacy without warning and he was sure any chance he had of being friends with Jason anymore was blown away to smithereens. Instead, he saw three pair of amused blue eyes looking at him. Wondering what they could find so funny about the situation, he looked down at himself and realized that his body was held frozen in an awkward position, half his limbs ready to bolt while the other half firmly rooted to the spot. Immediately he fumbled with his apologies.

"Uh… the front door… open… Jason… pen drive… I just… I thought he might need it… uh…" the words were all jumbled up and he felt an embarrassed flush creep across his cheek, "Right. I am just going to go."

Unable to meet their eyes, he walked towards their doorway and was just about to bolt when he heard Jason's amused drawl. "Mate, for a person who is here on a scholarship, you aren't that good at vocab, are you?"

"Common in Seejay" Ryan welcomed him over warmly with a wave of his hands. "We all could do with a little help decorating."

"Yeah, Ryan's really not much of a decorator," Marissa piped in, "you should have seen his room before we got married". She made a horror face, "ghastly!"

"Hey!" Ryan protested, wrapping his arms around her "I thought you liked the pool house."

"Well, I did…" she ran her fingers up his arm playfully and fiddled with his shirt buttons, "just…" her words were slightly undercut as she whispered, "not for your decorating skills."

Jason rolled his eyes at his parents obviously mushy behavior and stared at Seejay, "see, what I have to put up with?" He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "You have to stay to provide me with some non-embarrassing company."

Seejay stuffed his hands in his pocket and grinned awkwardly. "Uh… I am just going to leav…" he never got to finish his sentence as a small pair of hands tugged at his shirt.

"Seejay," Grace's big, blue eyes widened and her lower lip curled in a pout, "will you help me put my angel on the tree." She pleaded.

"Uh…" he looked around like the walls were going to provide him with some answers… "I… ummm…"

"Great!" she exclaimed, jumping up on him, "ours has to be the highest." Then realizing that she was hanging off him like a kite, she admonished him and said, "You know, you have to hold me too, or I'll fall."

"Grace Atwood, you better apologize to our guest right now." Marissa chastised her daughter immediately. Moving to pick her up, she shot an apologetic smile in Seejay's direction. "sorry, she is just…"

"Nah, it's cool." Seejay gave her a sheepish grin, "it's just… I haven't held anyone before."

"Oh."

Unwilling to give up on her new friend who was going to help her put her decoration higher than that of her brother, she immediately held even more tightly to him. "Mommy, I want to stay on Seejay."

"Grace…"

"It's okay Mrs. Atwood. Really" Seejay felt Grace tighten her grip around him and he gently held her. "She is not giving me any trouble."

"See mom, I am not any 'bubble'"

All the adults laughed at her and it rather broke the awkwardness. Seejay surprisingly felt comfortable enough to carry her up to the tree and she with her golden angel scrambled up him like a monkey so she could reach the top. Finally displacing Jason's dove, she stuck her tongue out at her brother. "Ha ha, mine is higher than youuurs..."

Jason gave Seejay a miserable sigh. "Dude, its sad how whipped my sister has you. You sided with her over your own friend. The same friend I might add that saved you the very first day."

Seejay shot him a smile. Although it was more of a crooked curl of his lips, it felt like the first genuine smile to him. "Yeah well, I saved your ass up on the football field. So looks like we are equal."

For the next half an hour, they all busied themselves with the decorations. And even though, he didn't directly take part in the conversation, not yet comfortable enough to be a part of it, he couldn't believe how effortlessly he melded along with them, or how much fun he was having. For the first time in his life, like in forever, he felt as if there was no pressure upon him to be something or someone. He didn't have to watch what he spoke or worry about anyone… and for the first time he felt… free.

Of course, he had learnt a long time ago that all good things hardly ever lasted long.

"So Seejay…" Ryan asked casually, while putting up the Christmas lights, "what about your dad? He doesn't believe in Christmas?"

Seejay chewed on his bottom lip as he shuffled nervously from one feet to the next. "He is away." he stuttered, coming up with the first thing he could "Uhh… a business trip".

"Well, then what about your mom?" Marissa asked curiously.

Sadness crept into his eyes as he looked down. He hadn't really thought about her since… ten seconds back when he had thought what it would be like had his mom been there. Would she have looked at him the same way Jason's mom looked at Jason, would they have had a Christmas tree and decorations and the whole deal, or even would they have had a chance of being like a normal family… yeah right! Get a grip, Seejay. Like that's going to happen…

"She left." He whispered softly.

"Oh."

Marissa didn't know what else to reply. The poor guy… she knew exactly what he would be feeling right now. She had her parents leave her time and time again… she knew how painful it felt, how horrible it was, how scary and sad it could be. All her motherly instincts came to the forefront as she felt empathy, concern and sadness for this boy. No wonder the guy looked ready to bolt. Something about the fact that he was going to be spending the Christmas alone tugged at her heartstrings. She exchanged a silent glance with Ryan.

"You know what. Screw it. You should come to our place tonight" she offered. "It'll be fun."

Jason immediately joined in, "you'll get to meet our Uncle Seth. He is like way cool… and even though he is this hotshot lawyer in New York, he loves his comics more than he loves his clients."

"Yeah, Aunt Summer always buys me the cutest of Barbie dolls." Wanting to convince him to stay, Grace said the only thing that her small mind could think of. Biting her bottom lips she shrugged, "I'll allow you to play with them if you want..."

Seejay felt a small smile curve his lips at that sweet offer and he closed his eyes for a second as the pain of it washed his heart. It sounded all great, it was all great… but it wasn't him. How could he have forgotten all the reasons why this couldn't be, wouldn't be true for him. He could never be what they wanted him to be… and he could never allow himself to hope…

"I've… I've got to go." He muttered under his breath and hastily got up to leave.

Instantly a deluge of 'No... Stay…", "it'll be fun…". "Common mate…" hit his ears and he felt a sadness creep his heart. Jason's dad was the only one among them who did not try to stop him. Instead, he simply said…

"Let me drive you."

…….

"Coop!"

The shout could be heard clear across the whole orange county as the two best friends hugged each other like they wouldn't ever let go.

"Sum!" Marissa said warmly, grinning so widely that she felt as if her jaw would split. "I can't believe you are finally here. I missed you so much…"

"I know, baby, I know. Me too. We would have gotten here sooner if Cohen here hadn't made us stop at every comic book store from New York to Newport just so he could get the latest copy of legions?"

"Oh, is someone forgetting the stops at all those stores so you could shop?" her brother in law snapped as he walked in carrying what looked like at least 10 bags in his hands. Of course, he fell down twice or thrice, but he finally got there with a fitting retort on his lips.

Marissa laughed. Some things never changed. Just like Lois for was Lane, Monica was for Chandler, Seth was for Summer. They were a match made in snarling heaven.

"Seth…" she hugged his tightly to her. She had missed him so much.

"oh… ummm… hey…" suddenly caught under the onslaught of Marissa's hugs, an awkward grin formed on his face as he returned her hug with uncertain hands. "That's ummm… a really minty greeting, Coop."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call her Coop?" Summer snapped, although the memory of the number of times they had said this when they were kids made all three of them laugh.

It was crazy how the years between them just melted away and they were once again Chino, Coop, Summ and Cohen, age 17, Newport Beach. Marissa waved them over inside and closed the door as the three best friends made their way into the kitchen laughing and giggling as they shared everything that had happened in the past six months that they had been apart.

"So what happened?" Marissa asked curiously as they sat down on the kitchen chairs over hot steaming mugs of coffee, "Ryan told me last night that you guys might not make it. Seth had some high profile case to work on or something."

Surprise of surprises, and it was as much a surprise to himself as it was to anyone else, Seth had found himself curiously attracted to law. After all his misgivings about the profession and all his jokes on his dad's behalf, he found himself pursuing law as his career and was now a hotshot lawyer in New York.

"Because asshat here," Summer replied, throwing a disgusted look at Seth, "accidentally wrote down the wrong date in his calendar. The case isn't for another month."

"So you guys are going to stay?" Marissa asked hopefully.

"We thought we might stay till New Year." Seth replied casually, "you know put in a little quality Seth-Ryan time."

"Speaking of which… where is Chino? Still working?" Summer asked.

"No. he is…" Marissa's voice trailed off as she remembered the look in Ryan's eyes just before he had left. "He is gone to do what he does best." she finished cryptically.

Summer looked quizzically at her.

"If I know him correctly, and I think I do…" Marissa said, "He is gone to help."

………

Sitting here in Mr. Atwood's car, parked right in front of his apartment, Seejay was acutely aware of every little hole in the wall of his house or chipped off paint that had started to peel or the garbage that remained in one of the bins because nobody seemed to want to pick it up. Compared to the opulence of the mansion that he had just witnessed, this was a hellhole and he couldn't look Jason's dad in the eye for fear of the ridicule that he was sure that he would see.

"Uhh… this is it.," he whispered in an almost inaudible voice, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Umm, its not much but… we just moved in and well, there wasn't any availability and umm…". His voice trailed off, and he flushed as he looked away.

"Look, don't worry about". Ryan knew exactly what Seejay was feeling; knew only too well how the opulence of Newport could be overbearing to any new comer. He gave him a sideways glance and shot him a smile. "I come from Chino. I know what its like."

"You… you do?" Seejay's eyes rounded in shock and wonder. At the stadium when he had seen Jason's dad, he had seemed like any other Newport father who had come to watch his son's game. Today at their home, he looked like the man who had everything handed over to him as if the God's had conspired amongst themselves to give him this perfect life. "Really? I mean… you just have it so together… a great job, an amazing wife, a perfect life…" he realized he had said the last words with a certain bitterness and he blushed, fumbling with his apology. "I mean… I didn't mean… I…"

Ryan merely grinned, "It does seem like that doesn't it?" then his eyes grew serious and he turned to look at him gravely. "Look, I know what its like to feel like an outsider. And…" Ryan paused before continuing, eyeing the faintly visible bruise on Seejay's neck. "I know only too well about falling down stairs." His voice softened and he ran his hands through his hair trying to find the right words to convey to this kid that he was on his side. "My point here is…" Ryan asserted, "If there's anything you want to tell me, or if there is any help that you need… I am there."

Seejay didn't reply, just looked down as he bit on his lip softly and nodded; the words couldn't or wouldn't form on his lips. Truth was he didn't quite know how to reach out, or even if he wanted to. Whatever this man said the bottom line was that he was beyond helping. "I've got to go now…" he muttered as he opened the door of the car.

"Listen…" Ryan stopped him before he got too far, "here's my card. If you need anything…"

"I know whom to call." The sentence flew out of his mouth, surprising him. He knew he would never call, but up until now he hadn't thought it was even possible for him to utter these words. A small smile of gratitude formed on his face as he palmed the card. With an imperceptible salute, he walked up the stairs to his house, then abruptly turned back.

"Mr. Atwood…" he put his hands deep in his pocket and gave him a sheepish smile, "Uhh… thanks, for… today."

Ryan smiled. "It's not a problem. And it's not Mr. Atwood to you. It's Ryan."

…….

The crystal clear blue water of the hot tub lapped around them as their bodies melded and entangled, seamlessly blending with each other's until they became one. The kids were asleep, Seth and summer were in the guest bedroom, having gone to bed immediately because they were still a little exhausted from their early morning drive and Ryan and Marissa took advantage of the solitude and the quiet as they sat in the hot tub, relatively secluded from the main house because of the bushes carefully arranged around it.

At any other time, this could have been the ideal scene for seduction, ideal scene for making love and they would never have let this opportunity pass up. However, tonight all they wanted was just the presence and the comfort of the each other's arms. Their wineglasses lay untouched on the platform beside them as time lay still.

Marissa rested her head against his chest, her body entirely cocooned by his as she sat on his lap, the moonlight glistening and glinting at every droplet of water that clung to her skin, covered in nothing but a teal green bikini. Her hands tightened a little bit around him and the artificial waves lapping against the pool tiles were the only sound that could be heard, as each got lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you think he is going to be all right?" Marissa's voice was a soft whisper against his chest pulling him out of his thoughts. Her blue eyes were serious as she looked at him in concern.

His looked beyond, towards the dark cloudless sky.

"I don't know…" he sighed. The kid had it bad. He could see it in his every inflection, every mood, every jerk of his head and every recoil of his hands. He just didn't know what it was and he was sure Seejay wasn't going to tell him. He could plainly see that the kid had trust issues and if anyone could understand what that was like, it was him. "I mean I gave him my card… and our home number… " his voice trailed off, they both knew it wasn't enough.

"What kind of a mother just abandons her kid and runs away like that?" the question was rhetorical; they both knew what it was like to be abandoned by their family. But the pain that slashed through his heart wasn't. It was very much real.

Watching him recoil as if he was burnt, she was acutely aware of how much of a hold his past still had on him…. He might have forgiven Dawn, he now even had a healthy relationship with her, but she doubted he would ever be able to forget the scars that being left alone in the world without anyone would had left on him. she felt a pain in her heart as she remembered the young boy who had sat beside her in the model home and told her about his mom. "I am sorry… I shouldn't have brought that up…" she whispered.

He sighed as he softly kissed her forehead and held her tightly as he reminded himself that he wasn't alone anymore. Every time he saw someone being abused, some kid struggling with a broken family it brought it all back. It tightened like a noose around his neck. His past…, all the memories and all the pain… he felt the desperate need to help, to reach out, to make sure that no one else ever had to suffer like that. "You know what's funny…" he said softly and their eyes connected, sharing all the things that were left unsaid, "it makes it that much more real. I know exactly what he is going through right now, and there is nothing I can do to help."

Marissa's hands rubbed his shoulders gently, soothingly as she looked up at him. "You already did, Ry…" she said at long length, "Just by reaching out to him, you already did."

He lay his head gently against hers and slowly nodded in response. "I wish I could do more…"

For a moment, they stayed like that, then Marissa broke and lightened the intense moment. "It's been a long time since I have seen you in your Ryan Atwood 'the rescuer' mode. I didn't realize how much I was starting to miss him." she teased.

Recognizing her ploy Ryan allowed to her to cajole him back from his dark thoughts. She knew him like the back of her hand, knew exactly what he was feeling, knew exactly how much to push and when to leave. It was one of the things that he admired about her and one of the many things that made him fall in love with her all over again. "Yeah well, what can I say…" he tried to joke, "My favorite damsel in distress hasn't been in distress in a long time."

"Uh huh?"

Their lips met and mingled. It was a sweet kind of a kiss, a healing kind of a kiss.

"Uh huh."

But it didn't stay like that. As it always happened, one touch between them escalated to two and then many as the passion grew between them. All of a sudden, Ryan broke it off and Marissa looked up at him in surprise.

"You know in all this I almost forgot…" he gasped, his voice held the slightest amount of tremor from barely controlled passion. Slowly he pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box and handed it to her.

"What's this?" she eyed the box, perplexed.

"It's your Christmas present." He stated blandly then grinned when he watched her squeal in delight.

"Ryan!" she pushed him away and excitedly grabbing the box out of his hands and rapidly opened the cover looking inside. Her mouth dropped open in shock and she almost dropped the box.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed, looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

Ryan's grin widened. "I did!" he confirmed, mimicking the same tone that she had used, teasing her. "I just figured that we could celebrate our 20th New Year, the same way as we spent our first. The pent house of the four seasons is ours for the entire night." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her closer, and wriggled his eyebrows playfully as he stared down at her. "So… what do you think?"

Her sparkling blue eyes were the same color as that of the water around them. "I think…" she whispered against his lips in that husky voice that always drew him wild, "that we should start our celebrations a little earlier."

He couldn't hold himself in much longer. He cupped her face and angled it towards his, then pulled her legs up until they wrapped around his waist, taking her lips forcefully, passionately in his as he pushed her against the tiles. "I can already hear the fireworks."

Her answering laugh got swallowed whole by his lips, as pure sensation took over her. And with his lips melding with hers the way they were, and her mind exploding with bright lights, she swore she heard it too.

--------- ... ... ... ...

He couldn't believe that it was really her.

He hadnt really wanted to believe, not when her name was asociated with his...

He had been standing near the window when he had seen the car pull up. Even without the sun glaring on its hood, the very fact that it was a range rover in his locality would have attracted attention, but what had surprised him was the fact that it was his son who had gotten out of it. The man sitting in the front seat had been faintly familiar to him, but he had shrugged it off. 

Until his son had mentioned the name…

Ryan Atwood.

The name rolled off his tongue like a particularly distasteful bad word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ryan Atwood…

The name revolved in his mind bringing with it a surge of hatred to course through his body, a surge that had not diminished over the years. Every jealous, vindictive, revengeful, hateful feeling that he had, came to the forefront the moment he had heard those words.

He had never forgotten him…

He was the sole reason for his downfall, he was the one who was responsible for his condition right now.

He was the one who had finally taken her away...

His hands clenched on the bushes drawing blood. How dare she allow him to touch her like that? How dare she allow him to kiss her like that? How dare she allow him to brand her like that?

He couldn't watch anymore, as jealousy swirled through his mind possessing him, claiming him like the drugs he so often used. Except it was more potent than that.

She was his; his by right of this moon and this earth and he wouldn't rest until he claimed her as his own.

How ironic that it would all end at the same place where it had all started?

As he walked away, Oliver Trask vowed that justice would be served.

_A/N: No hate mails please…. Oliver only there for 2 more chapters. I __know it's a bit mushy at the start, and a little out of character for R/M but I am hoping you guys will excuse that and still manage to enjoy. _


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _**So yeah… I am back to this piece of fiction I thought I'd never complete. But what can I say… the muse controls you and not the other way round. In this chapter I am once again focusing more on Ryan and Marissa. I want to sink my claws into their life, their relationship with each other and their relationship with their children, before everything will change. And it soon will. Coz Knowing Oliver, he cant sit still for long without stirring things up and truth be told, I want to get Oliver out of this fic as fast as possible. I really hate that guy. Also, I want to introduce Jason and his relationship with Seejay and why he feels so strongly for the guy **__(in a completely brotherly non creepy way.__**.) And why in spite of having so many friends, he still counts on Seejay more than anyone else.**_

_**Now on with this Fic… enjoy!**_

Chapter 5: the New Years Eve.

She checks herself once, then twice. She wants everything perfect for tonight. The mirror in front of her does not lie to her as it reflects her thirty five year old slender frame clad in a black off shoulder knee length dress. She carefully applies a minimum amount of make up, just enough to cover the subtle flaws that aren't flaws at all and pulls on the green hanging drop earrings that Ryan has given to compliment the classic, timeless look that she is going for. But whichever way she sees it, she isn't sixteen anymore.

She sighs.

It isn't that she is insecure about her looks or the way she has aged as some of her Newport counterparts are. It's just that, tonight she wants her husband to remember her exactly the way she used to look 20 years ago. Just for tonight she wants to be that teenager whose fantasy came true when her boyfriend had raced up the steps at the toll of midnight on the New Year's Eve and said those three special words, altering her life forever.

But like she'd said before, she isn't sixteen anymore.

And this'll have to do.

His hands slide easily across her waist as he draws her behind, flush with his body and teases the nape of her neck with his barely whispered words. "Honey, you look beautiful". He can't even begin to describe what it feels like, holding her this close, breathing in the scent of her. He can never get tired of it, never want it to change. He is so in love with her.

Always was, always will be.

Her eyes clash his through the mirror and she wonders how he does it. With a single whispered word, with a simple blue eyed look he makes her feel - breathless, anxious, giddy, making all of her earlier insecurities disappear.

She grins, giving him a long low flirtatious look. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"When you look at me like that…." Swiftly he turns her around, his hands pulling her body even closer.

"Like what?" she teases.

He gives her a look of his own. His smouldering blue eyes move over hers, from the top of her golden hair, to her still trim waist, to her long, long legs… and soon she is breathless and hot.

Unable to help herself, she pulls his lips towards her claiming them in a hot passionate kiss. "You think you are so cute."

"I kinda am."

One kiss leads to another, the kisses escalate and soon their hands are all over each other, their bodies straining, wanting nothing more than to end this sweet pain.

"Maybe... maybe we should skip the party and have a party of our own." He trails hot kisses down her collarbone, his voice husky with controlled passion as he pushes her backwards until she falls on the bed with him lying on top of her.

Her breath hitches at his words, her actions completely contrasting what she says next. Wrapping her long limbs against his hips and pulling him closer, her body arching with her own need, she whispers, "Nope. Don't want to skip this one."

"What if I make you?" his hands pull her skirt up, a finger trailing seductively against where she aches the most and she loses her mind, every coherent thought flowing out of her brain.

A last ditch attempt, a last shred of sanity and she rolls them over so that she is the one straddling him now, her hands swiftly dipping inside. "What if I drag you?"

"I am stronger."

"I am wilier."

"Marissa, I…"

He gasps as in one swift motion she enters, stopping their battle of wills, stopping whatever he is about to say, giving them both exactly what they have wanted all along. Its quick, its hard, its passionate and all the more satisfying for it all as they slowly pull apart, both breathing hard, both laughing, and both realizing that they have just behaved like hormonal, giddy teenagers. They are still fully clothed and she haphazardly sits on his lap, and rests her temple on his, trying to get her breathing to return to a somewhat normal pace. She tenderly brushes the damp hair that have fallen on his face; her fingers lovingly tracing the sweaty angles of his face, a contented Cheshire smile gracing her lips "I love you."

His eyes clash with hers wondering about her suddenly pensive mood. Then he remembers something and his mouth turns up into a crooked smile. "Thank you?"

She laughs, then playfully pokes him back. "Way to ruin a moment, Atwood."

"I did do that, didn't I?"

"A little bit." She answers giving him a soft smile. "Here I was opening my heart up to anyone for the very first time… the words never more meaningful than then and you said 'thank you...'" she jabs him lightly on the chest, in mock anger. "Thank you, Ryan? You couldn't come up with anything better?"

"But think of this from my point of view…" Ryan answers, arranging her so that she now sits firmly against him. "I had never met anyone this beautiful and I had never said those words to anyone before… I got flummoxed. Besides, it's not like you didn't give me hell for it later on."

"I did?"

"You taunted me by going to that party with Oliver, remember? Of all the people to come in between us, he was a tool."

"I'd have to agree. And I am sorry for that." She eyes him seriously. "I should have believed you, and I didn't. You don't know how much I regret that."

"But then we did have this perfect moment." He answers lightly, breaking the seriousness of her words. He has forgiven her a long time ago. Really, there was nothing to forgive. She had just trusted the wrong person and he hadn't helped any better by stealing the letter from her locker. But forgiving Oliver was another matter. The fucker had pulled a gun on her and whatever else he could forgive; he would never forgive anyone that. To think that if things had gone wrong, she might not be sitting here with him… he shudders just thinking about it.

"Kind of like the perfect moment, we are about to have tonight." She lightly jumps from his embrace, and pulls him away from the bed. "So common Mr Atwood, or else we'll be late and I, for one, think you've become too old to rush up the stairs now."

…

I feel like something is about to happen tonight. Something big, something earth shattering and somehow, God only knows how - _my dad is in the middle of it_. Call it a carefully cultivated instinct; call it a survivor's lifeboat, but I know that my dad is up to no good. So as always, it is up to me to protect him, prevent whatever he is about to do and reverse the ill fate that falls upon us mostly at his instigation.

Don't get me wrong. I know his faults better than anyone else and I sure as hell don't condone them but, I mean… he _is_ my dad. The only frigging family that I have and I cannot…just cannot turn my back on him. The Trask's protect their own. That's my simple rule and I live by that.

It all started with little hints, pushing me together when it wasn't required, veiled taunts that I could barely attach any meaning to and above all the relative freedom that I had never received before. _'Go to school, ill be okay.', 'you don't have to take care of me', 'enjoy with your friends' - _when had my dad, conscious or otherwise had ever said things like that? Not that I am complaining. I got to spend time with the wonderful family that sort of accepted me at least partially into their lives. But the very fact that this did not bother my dad _bothered_ me.

"Dad." I shout impatiently, entering the hall of our small apartment dressed in the only formal dress shirt and pants that I have, the present that I have carefully picked up for the Atwoods clutched firmly in my hands. I still can't believe that they invited me to the four season's for the New Years Eve. Their generosity amazes me. And I want this gift to convey that. It isn't something extravagant. It's just a picture that I have clicked unbeknownst to them while I had attended their Christmas dinner with all of them in it. I had wrapped it in a cheap, gold bordered frame. But this is about all I can afford. It is all I can give.

And all I want out of this is for them to understand just how thankful I am… thankful for showing me the kind of kindness and support that they have shown. Truly… I'll never forget that.

"Dad…" I say again, walking into his bedroom to make sure that he is okay and more than that to make sure that that weird horrible queasy feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach is completely unfounded.

But as I enter his room, I come to an abrupt pause. No other words come out as I stare at him shell-shocked. Freshly shaven, dressed in a crisp blue suit he looks nothing like his former self. Bright eyes sans any form of alcohol, his hair neatly combed he looks too good to be true. "Wow, dad.., you look amazing."

"You think?" he grins and his grin is so infectious, that I smile back.

"Where are you going?" I casually ask.

"Out." A wicked grin forms on his face and that uneasy feeling is back.

"Out where?" I persist. I don't want him walking along the streets of Newport unsupervised. It is too risky and I have to protect my dad. I'd skip this once in a lifetime opportunity to go with him just to make sure he is okay and I tell him as much.

He laughs. "Oh shush. You go ahead. I don't want you curtailing your social activities because of me."

There it is… those words again. It's like seeing the expression on a kids face who has just received a hundred candies. Everything about that expression bothers me.

"So you think she'll like the way I look after all these years?" he excitedly asks.

"Who?" I look at him sceptically trying to discern what he is thinking.

"Marissa." He says, almost reverently.

I cock my head to one side. "Marissa?" I question. The name is familiar to me. Ive heard it somewhere but I can't quite place it.

"Cooper." He supplies as if that explains everything. A dreamy, sappy look comes into his eyes and that's when it strikes me exactly where I have heard that name…

It had been 2 years since my mom had left and my dad was in one of his uncharacteristic moods when he had just stuck to alcohol. That meant he was lucid enough to talk and he had made me sit down beside him, and cruelly told me while thrusting raw whisky down my throat that my mom was the dumbest whore the world had ever seen and he had been crazy to marry her. I had stared at him, my twelve year old mind had been too raw, too untrained to bear the news like that. He had told me about her then, this Marissa, about how she had accepted him for exactly who he was, how she had loved him just as much as he had loved her, about how she knew his problems because she had battled with the same problems herself. But someone else had come in the way and had screwed everything up and she'd left him.

'Cooper' was the name and 'Newport' had been the place.

Shit… How could I forget? Newport… I should have remembered.

"But dad, does she know you are here?" .

"She doesn't know yet," A mad demonic, gleam enters his eyes. "But she soon will."

I have seen that half crazed, half cursed look before. In and out, in and out his brain goes, till he can't understand what is real and what is but a figment of his imagination. And he will do anything… _kill... _when he is like that. I fear that look every day of my life. Now I _know_ exactly what is wrong.I know what he is going to do because the pattern repeats itself and it never stops. She is his new victim. It is Seattle all over again, it is Brooklyn all over again, it is every other place that we have ever run away from. Coercion, blackmail, fights, crying, cops and running… a deep fear grips me, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

"But the moment she does she will be ecstatic." my dad continues, his eyes glazy, unaware that my mood has changed and I now observe him like a snake charmer would observe a snake that was about to pounce, "She is so beautiful; you won't know what's hit you. She has money too… good amount and the years wouldn't matter. Everything else that's happened wouldn't matter. All that would matter is the love that I have for her and as I tell it to her when we ring in 2011 all our problems will disappear…"

"Maybe… maybe you shouldn't do that." I frightfully warn.

"Oh common…" he shushes me, laughing crazily. "Stop being such a spoil sport. I have a plan in motion to get her and unlike the last time I won't make any mistakes. Everything will work out. You'll see."

I know nothing will. Things like these never do. And I know that it is up to me to protect you. Always has been, always will be.

A steely determination enters my eyes. "Not if I don't allow you too."

"But what can you do? What _can _you do?" he threateningly asks.

….

The pent house of the four seasons is set.

The drinks, the hors de vors, the lights, the music and the waiters rushing from each guest to the other are of the highest standards that Newport has ever seen. The guests themselves are 'the who's who' of this small gated community.

And everyone knows that when the successful architect who builds their million dollar mansions and who is now the owner of the Newport group (the richest company in Newport), throws a party, everyone who is lucky enough to get the invite, shows up. That he is a very basic and down to earth guy, that he comes from a very humble background, a place called Chino they haven't even heard of and that he sometimes does things like opening a shelter for the homeless or running a group home for free that they can barely understand, _are_ traits they are willing to forget. He _has _the money after all and he _has _married one of their own. He is what they call the 'crème the la crème' of the Newport society, and it is unquestionable that his son – Jason – is the most eligible bachelor in town.

It doesn't matter that he is only fifteen, with his whole life ahead of him. They all know that the choices you make at that tender age affected the rest of your life. So the girls clamour to meet him, guys call him their best buddy and the Newpsie mother's fawn all over him making him breakfasts and lunches, touching his arms flirtatiously and making not so subtle suggestions of throwing their girls at him. The fact that he is extremely good-looking having inherited his father's blonde hair and his mother's blue eyes, is good at sports and gets good grades is just the icing on the cake.

For his part – Jason hates it.

He checks his watch once again. It's 10.30… Still two more hours for this ridiculous party to end. Linda and Amy are making a fool of themselves planning the perfect after party while his gang of fiends, chief among them Rod and Disney (really who names their kid Disney?) drool on. He is tired of them, tired of their ridiculously lewd behaviour, tired of the fact that they seem unwilling to pull themselves away from the Newport bubble long enough to think of the world outside of these beautiful walls, a world he has this insatiable craving to experience.

He doesn't blame them. After all, everything about him is different from them. Starting from his house, not that it isn't big enough, or beautiful enough, because it is both, rather, it is the people in it that make all the difference to him. Displacing the frigid atmosphere of most homes he goes to, his house is always warm and welcoming, where his friends usually eat catered food, he usually gets home cooked meals just like a normal middle class guy would, and the dinner they have, has some _real _conversation.

He is proud of the fact his parents love each other deeply, that his parents have never brought him up in the lap of luxury. They have always been quick to correct, quick to support and quick to love him, but they have never showered him with unnecessary presents, and he has always had to work hard to get what he wanted.

Simply put – he doesn't fit. He does great to pretend that he does, sometimes even fooling himself, but he doesn't… not really. So yeah… Newport's opulence, its overbearing attitude and its shallow, mindless people are so different from what he gets at home that it is starting to get to him.

And that's why when he meets the new shy, vulnerable, brilliant transfer student called Seejay… he forms his new escape. With him, he doesn't have to be anyone except Jason, he doesn't have to pretend to be a mindless jock, He can tell him whatever he wants and he can feel… and not be afraid of getting ridiculed for 'feeling'.

He checks his watch once again… where in the hell is Seejay?

….

The four friends talk to each other like they have done for the better part of the evening. The dances have been danced, the small conversations have been had and now a lull, a pre – new year comfortable silence envelops.

"I feel sad for Gracie." Seth suddenly pipes in. "I mean here we are, enjoying this brilliant champagne, in the pent house of the four seasons no less and she is stuck with Grandma Julie." Seth points to himself. "Get that Ryan, me and Grace share a grandma… How incestuous is that?"

"Oh Cohen, shut up." Summer punches him. "He is been repeating the same joke over and over again ever since he came to know that Julie is babysitting Grace. Incidentally Coop, you couldn't find anyone else?"

"Don't get Marissa started." Ryan warns. "I had to practically bribe her with everything that I have to convince her to leave Grace behind."

"I know it's not right to wish that she would be with us right now, but without Grace, none of this feels right." Marissa sighs.

"I know baby, but she is still four. She is too young for parties. Besides if I know your mom, they will be having a party of their own. Don't be surprised if she teaches our daughter to gamble in this one night."

"Ryan…"

"What? It's true. You do remember that on Jason's 10th birthday she gave him a fully paid trip to Las Vegas right? "

"She did that?" Seth laughs. "If you can say one thing about Julie Cooper, she is not dull."

"Nor was she welcome in our house for a long time after that." Ryan chuckles. "Marissa's rule."

"What is it like to be a mom, Coop…?"

"Scary… and wonderful and brilliant and scary once again." Marissa gushes. "half the time you are so scared that you are going to do something wrong, hurt them somehow, and then they do something like maybe hold your hands and give you a smile and then… it's the best feeling in the whole world. I can't explain."

"I am going to be a mom." Summer suddenly says. "We found out this evening and we've just been so happy that we became selfish, wanting to keep this to ourselves for a little while longer."

"Oh My god Sum… I am so happy for you."

"And there is something else." Seth gushes. "I don't know how you guys will react but we thought that we'd move back. I've wanted to try the P.D's office for a long time and we just wanted to bring up the kid here with his family, with his cousins and with you guys around. Truth be told, I was starting to miss Newport."

"That's what we've been talking the whole evening." Summer explains. "And that's why we got late."

For a moment no one says anything and then suddenly the four friends start laughing and crying and enveloping each other in bear hugs as congratulations flow freely. To be together everyday, to experience all the small parts of life with each other, weekly dinners and daily shopping trips, to regain their youth… it is the best feeling to have.

And as the countdown begins, the four friends' pair off.

10…

9….

8….

Ryan pulls Marissa towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jason and his friends preparing to do the same. Seth winks at him, and Summer smiles.

7…

6…

5…

Marissa raises her eyes to his, a wide smile gracing her face.

4…

3…

2…

He prepares for his perfect moment, as his hands automatically find their way to the base of her hair to pull her lips in a passionate kiss.

1…

The lights go off and he wonders if Marissa has done that just to tease him and he smiles. His smile remains frozen as the lights come on and he feels Marissa being wrenched from his hand, hears her screams. And then Ryan's world is pushed into an abysmal darkness as he sees a face that he thought he'd never see, grabbing his wife, pulling her to him and forcefully kissing her lips. And then a different voice, a haunted voice, a voice that belongs to his past, whispers.

"Happy New year, Ryan Atwood. I've waited for this for so long."

And with Ryan Atwood, the multibillion dollar suave architect, the father of two children, the husband of a loving wife, loses it as his fists connects with that jaw.

In the chaos that ensues, Jason runs towards his family. "Dad!"

"Dad!" Seejay shouts doing the same, coming between Ryan and Oliver as he picks his father up and bodily forms a shield.

"Oliver?" Marissa whispers, "You are Oliver's son?"

And with that Seejay understands. "Oh My God, and you are Marissa." He softly whispers.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: so I don't know if any one of u guys is reading this or even like this, but this story inspires me to complete it. This chapter jumps form the New Year's Eve to about fifteen days later when as explained in the prologue Marissa rescues Seejay from jail. And it follows from there. Frankly speaking I would rather write Oliver in the past than in the present tense, so this jump. _

_Guys please review if you like this, it makes a difference._

_The present…_

I glanced at the boy sitting next to me in the passenger seat of my rover as he stared out the window. He hadn't moved from his position since the time I had picked him up from the prison. No words were exchanged between us and to some extent, I was relieved. I wasn't sure how I would react or what would come out of my mouth. I was still too overwhelmed by what I had done, a part of me still refusing to believe that I had bailed out Oliver Trask's son. Especially after everything that had happened.

The car sped along the highway, the scenery changing from the dank, dark unlit roads to Newport lushness and I allowed my thoughts to drift across to that New Year's night. Looking back, the next few days had been a blur – as if a shadow, a dark cloud had been cast upon us that wasn't too keen to move. For a while there, I had believed that the entire thing from Seejay meeting Jason to that New Year night had been orchestrated by none other than Oliver. How he had come after so many years from somewhere in the pyre's of my hell to torture me, I had no idea. All I knew was that I had never seen Ryan this angry, this hurt or this hell-bent on getting revenge. Jaws locked, the muscles in his arms straining, and that cold fury gracing every part of his wide blue gaze, he had never seemed less like the Ryan Atwood I knew now and more like the Ryan Atwood who had gone after Volchok or the Ryan Atwood who had wanted to kill his only brother, Trey then.

I knew that Ryan wanted nothing more than to go after Oliver.

I knew that Ryan wanted nothing more than to kill him.

And I also knew that I would do anything to stop it.

So would Seth. Initially we had tried to convince him to leave it to the authorities and to some extent it had worked but then Oliver had called and threatened to take Grace away. After that I knew that I had no choice but to take the matter into my own hand. If Ryan came to know...

Best case scenario - He would kill Oliver. Worst case scenario – he would be the one to get hurt.

That thought had me twisted in so many coils, that I knew it was something that I could not… would not allow. He was my whole life. I just couldn't take that chance. So, without letting Ryan know about that particular call, I and Seth had made a plan. I was going to call Oliver and ask him to meet me. After all it was me that he wanted and we figured he would jump at the opportunity. Seth would then alert the authorities so that they could stage a move to catch him. The plan had sounded simple enough, except Oliver had turned out to be smarter than either of us had predicted. He had waited by the house long before we were supposed to meet and had seen Seth leave. Just as I was supposed to leave, he jumped me. The next thing I remembered is waking up in a warehouse, a cool cloth being splayed gently on my forehead. It took sometime for my eyes to adjust to the form in front of me.

It was seejay.

The same Seejay who had been a part of my family for the past month all the while plotting against us.

The same Seejay who was Oliver's son.

An anger like I had never known before gripped me. I wasn't going to allow him to get away with it one more time.

_"You bastard." I gritted through clenched teeth. "How could you come into our life, Jason's life and do what you are doing? How could you do this to Ryan? He helped you, he saved you and this is how you repay him?"_

_"You are getting it all wrong." He tried placing a hand on my lips, tried to quite my struggles but that angered me more and I bit him causing him to yank his hand away and howl in pain. It was enough opportunity for me to scream my head out, wanting escape._

_"Ryan! Anybody! Help! Help!"_

_"Please..." He begged. "I am just trying to save you. Just let me open these for..."_

_But he never got to complete that sentence. Another voice, Oliver's voice intervened. "Seejay I thought I specifically told you to stay away." He barked._

_"Dad…" Seejay whimpered. "Please just let her go. Please." Something about the way he said it caused me to question my earlier impression of him. If he had helped his dad kidnap me, why was he pleading my case? I could fleetingly see it in his eyes that he didn't want any of this, but it disappeared and I so desperately wanted to ask him, but with Oliver there everything else flew out of my mind. _

"_So the sleeping beauty wakes up." Oliver walked slowly towards me, his eyes raking me from head to foot making me feel vile and naked. A lean finger traced my jaw and it brought that creepy feeling to crawl inside my body. The dislike was so intense that I wanted nothing more than to spit at him. He bent forward, his knees touching the ground and his eyes level with mine. _

"_So soft…" He lowered his hands as he painfully touched my cheek and I literally shrank away from his touch. "So beautiful…" he brought his lips closer and closer to mine… "You missed me didn't you?" he whispered through yellowing teeth. The sheer revulsion he evoked in me, the sheer repulsion I felt for him and what he was doing had me fighting harder against the tight coils. This seemed to arouse him further and he laughed a hollow mockery of a laugh._

_I wanted something, anything to happen now. I wanted this to end. I had never felt so defiled before. All thoughts of Trey and that beach were nothing as compared to now because with my hands tied behind my back I was as helpless as a rag doll, and just as susceptible to the whims and fancies of Oliver Trask. _

_He seemed to enjoy that more as his hands clutched tightly against my jaw straightening it forcefully from my continued acts of evasion and bringing my lips closer and closer to his. _

"_You move one step ahead - you are a dead man." I looked up to see Ryan standing in the doorway and a sharp sense of relief flooded me. Ryan was here. Everything was going to be alright. _

_"Ryan!" I shouted in pure reprieve but the reprieve was short lived. The way Ryan was looking at Oliver right now… his eyes dark with a burning hatred and his facial muscles clenched and standing out, I knew he was just minutes away from killing Oliver. _

"_Ryan…" I said more softly this time. "Please…"  
_

_Oliver turned to where Ryan was standing temporarily forgetting about me as a mad chuckle escaped his lips. "I was wondering when I'd meet you again."_

_Ryan walked further into the room, his movements economical like a panther caught in the act of pouncing on a prey, his sharp face illuminated in the single overhead light making the cold fury evident in every line of his face, his words short and to the point. "Well I'm here. So let her go."_

"_I wish it was that simple" Oliver snickered, unaware of the warning in Ryan's gaze, or maybe too aware of it as he removed a piece of cold metal from his back pocket._

_Oliver had come prepared._

"_Dad." Seejay screamed as surprised by it as I was._

_Oliver paid no heed, his eyes trained sharply on every move that Ryan made. He removed the gun from his back pocket, and placed it threateningly between the both of them. "You see, I did that once, listened to you and look where that got me. Barely out of jail, while you enjoy the good life. So, no. I don't think so."_

"_The police will be here shortly." Ryan answered, his voice deceptively calm even as his eyes widened in surprise and fear. "You don't want to do that… let her go and we can all walk free."_

"_Free?" Oliver exclaimed incredulously, as the gun in his hands teetered dangerously, his eyes wild. "That's what you think I'll be?" _

_Ryan slowly inched another step forward, the movement was not unnoticed by Oliver. He trained the gun on Ryan sharply this time. _

_Be carful… I wanted so desperately to warn. But any sudden movement or a word at this stage was sure to trigger off Oliver and I didn't want to mess further with his mind._

"_Dad…" Seejay cried softly, pleadingly, "Please calm down. Like Mr Atwood says, he would let us go if you just let go of that gun. Give it to me dad…" Seejay moved a space ahead trying to maintain eye contact with Oliver, so that he and Ryan now formed a circle around Oliver. _

"_Back off. Both of you. Now." Oliver warned and I waited with baited breath knowing that he was very close to the edge, knowing that what was going to happen would happen in the next few minutes. I wish the police would hurry up. Where was Seth? Where were the cops?_

"_Don't move." He threatened._

"_And what are you going to do? Shoot me?" Ryan taunted._

"_I said, don't move." Oliver backed up another step and as Ryan lunged forward, Oliver's trigger finger closed around the trigger. What happened next, all happened in a blur. Seejay jumped in between, his hands wrestling with that of his fathers, his eyes bordering on crazy as they both scampered for the falling gun on the floor. _

_A gunshot was fired and it echoed eerily in the suddenly silent room._

_A scream echoed dully from my mouth. I had no idea who had fired it and who if anyone was shot._

_And the next thing I could se through my own tears was a crying Seejay standing with a gun in his hand while his father bled on the floor._

_As like in the movies, the cops came but a shade too late and before I knew it I was in Ryan's arms crying from pure relief and the cops were taking Seejay away. _

My thoughts came back to the present and I glanced once again at Seejay. I had had recurrent dreams about that night, waking up in a sweat as Ryan held me, trying to comfort me. He assumed I was just scared because of what I had been through with Oliver. And I had allowed, even encouraged him to believe that. But I had never told him that the eyes that woke me up at night, that haunted me day in and day out were those of Seejay. Somewhere I knew that we had done him wrong. Some basal instinct that I possessed cried out for that boy who could just as well have done all this to save Ryan's life. Those eyes, when they had looked at me as the police car had taken him away were so hauntingly sad that a part of me yearned to take the pain away. And I didn't know how dominant that part was. Or even if any of what I was feeling was justified.

I wished I had some way of knowing if that day he had been aiming for Ryan or for Oliver or if the whole thing had just been an accident. I wished I knew that what I had done was the right thing to do. I hoped I had, but I was working on nothing but instincts here. Instincts that told me that Seejay hadn't meant to do what he did. Instincts that told me, he wasn't involved in what his father had done. Instincts that told me, he was a good person who was just caught in the wrong situation at the wrong time. I didn't want to think of what would happen if I was wrong. I had pulled such stunts before, trusting someone out of the loop, and they had never worked… with Oliver… with Johnny…. With trey… but this time was so different, so much more painful than the last because I knew that I had a lot more to lose. This time I knew that the consequences of what I had done would not only be faced by me, but also by my entire family. And my marriage of seventeen years… my much cherished, happy marriage of seventeen years… could all end in a flash.

I licked my lips as that very real fear gripped me. No matter. What was done was done.

Entering the Newport gates, my decision of where I'd go or what I'd do was done. I had to meet Seth, not only for his legal mind but also because I knew that he was the only person who could understand. I was glad that Seth had shifted base. This would be ten times more difficult without Seth around.

I parked my car briskly in the parking lot of Seth's shiny, new office building. Turning towards Seejay I motioned to him that I was going to get out for a while.

"Are you… will you be okay staying in the car for a while?"

"Sure." He acknowledged me with a slight nod of his head.

I removed the keys from the ignition keeping the keys clutched tightly in my hand. I had already done something stupid. I didn't want to compound the mistake by giving Seejay a chance to bolt. I had bailed him, not cleared his name and if he didn't present himself to the authorities at an appropriate date, I was the one who would be held responsible.

He pointedly looked at the key in my hand for a long moment before correctly interpreting my thoughts, shaking his head ruefully at me.

"You can leave that in the car. I won't run." Shrugging at me nonchalantly, he gave me a sarcastic smile. "Besides, where would I run? My dad's dead, remember?"

"Right. Of course." I muttered awkwardly, leaving the keys in the ignition. "So… you can listen to music or whatever. I'm just going to go in to…"

"You are going in to speak with your lawyer." He answered flatly. "You want to make sure that a deranged lunatic like me does not bring your family down."

I thought of denying the whole thing and lying through my teeth, but he looked at me so honestly that I couldn't. I shrugged, hooking my hands in my skirt pocket. "Can you blame me?"

He levelled his eyes with mine steadily. "No." he answered. "I would advice you to do the same thing."

Something about the way he said it, so openly, so honestly yet with a raw intensity bolstered my confidence in the decision I had made. This kid deserved a chance, whatever or whoever his parents were… "That is the best thing that you could have said in your defence." I gave him a small smile. "Now, let's hope my brother in law feels the same way."

"Wait." He leaned towards the window side, stopping me. "Whatever happens, I just want to say…" he licked his lips fearfully and then gulped, like saying the few words were difficult for him. "I'd understand if you decide that I need to go back. And for whatever you have done so far… thank you. Its more than anyone has ever done for me."

I had to leave. This was more than I could deal.

"You brought him with you?" Seth shouted, clearly exasperated the moment I entered his office door. I had called ahead, so he had cleared everything for me and once I had relayed what had happened, he stared at me like I had lost my mind. I was beginning to think I had too.

"What was I supposed to do?" I defended weakly. "They were killing him in there."

"Marissa-" Seth groaned.

I looked down, biting my lips shakily and wringing my hands like a school girl caught in a forbidden act. "How angry do you think is Ryan going to be?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his brown curls and sighed. "I really don't want to think about it but that's not even the point." He fixed me with a glare that reminded me more of Sandy Cohen. "Have you even considered what happens if he kidnaps Grace and holds her for ransom instead? Or hurts Jason? He is after all, Oliver's son."

"Believe me, that thought has crossed my mind." I answered shakily. "But Seth, I really don't think that he meant to do any of those things. He was forced into them by Oliver… whom we both know is more than capable of doing that."

"'Think', being the operative word here, Marissa." Seth reproached, shaking his head at me disappointingly. "This could so easily go wrong…"

"I know…" I sighed. I stared into his eyes steadily. "He saved Ryan's life that day Seth. You weren't there…" my eyes connected with his, pleading… beseeching, hoping that he would understand. "I was."

He looked heavenwards, bringing his hand to his shoulder and squeezing it. "I don't know Marissa."

"Look, all I am asking is for you to help him. Just like Sandy helped Ryan." I moved towards him as persuasively as I could, my eyes telling a different story. "Me and Ryan – we are both here because someone gave us a chance. Now he deserves one. And I know Ryan. If he can get past the fact that this is Oliver's son, he would want this. He would be the one to campaign for this the strongest. Please Seth… he needs you. _We_ need you."

He bit his lip and pinched the tip of his nose in frustration. "Okay, say for arguments sake, I do help you…"

"Anything you can do." I smiled, kissing his cheek quickly, not giving him the opportunity to argue.

"Oy." He called after me, "I wasn't done deciding yet."

I grinned up at him from the door, knowing very well that the battle was won. "I just want to make sure that Seejay stays out of jail if we decide to withdraw all the charges."

"That's the easy part." He answered. "Convincing Ryan to drop the charges is going to be the tough one."

"I know." I sighed. "But if he does that, I just want to be sure that it'll stick."

"It will." I smiled at his confidant answer and made a move to get out knowing he was busy. I didn't want to take up any of his time further and just the fact that he was on my side bolstered confidence in me. But before I could take another step, his hand on my shoulder stopped me. "But Marissa if you are wrong …"

I looked at him, eyeing him steadfastly. "We are so screwed."

….


	7. Chapter 7

_Well, first of all, thankyou to my lovely beta, Teresa, for taking that pains to go through this chapter and correct my mistakes. Thank you. you know you rock!_

_Well, second of all, this chapter is long. But it is pivotal and took me hours and hours of re-writes before i coiuld even make it halfway decent. And that was before i gave it to teresa to read, so you can imagine. But it is important and so i don't regret it. I enjoyed writing it a lot and hope you guys will find somthing in to enjoy too. _

_And, third of all... Well, there is no third of all except read on. and if it manages to touch you in some small way.. review! wont ask for more. thank you._

Chapter 7:

"Umm… welcome to our home." She tentatively whispered to the boy standing next to her as she opened the huge ornate gates of her home. The words sounded rusty and hollow and lame… but she didn't know how to do this, didn't know what to say… didn't know what the protocol was or what the rules were when you welcomed an ex-convict to your home. The last time she had seen him without an orange suit, she had been drugged and bound and his dad had been breathing down her neck.

So Yeah…

She shook her head slightly as she dropped her set of keys in the foyer and switched on the lights before moving deeper into her plush interior. Thankfully Ryan's car was nowhere to be seen, which meant that he was still at work and for once in her life; she was glad that he wasn't home yet. She needed this time to compose herself, to bring some semblance of order to her thoughts, to make sure that she got everything screwed the right way on before she threw her decision in his face. She just... wanted to take a long deep breath, stop the motions of time for that one, small infinitesimal second, before everything around her snowballed.

And it was going to snowball. If nothing else, she was sure of _that_.

Lost in her own thoughts, it was some time before she realised that Seejay had not followed. Turning around, she saw him still standing awkwardly in the doorway, exactly the way she had left him. His ill fitting, less than flattering clothes hung loosely to his thin body, his hands were clutched tightly to the duffel bag, and a distant and forlorn expression graced his face. If you looked long enough, you could see the darkness under his eyes, feel the helplessness that clung to his clothes, experience the futility that marked each and every one of his move.

With a start, she realised just how difficult this must be for him. She hadn't even asked him how he was faring, if he needed anything, if he was alright... But he had handled everything so maturely - never questioning, just accepting all that was happening around him- that it had been easy to forget that he was just a fifteen year old boy grappling with fact that his father… the only parent he had known… was dead. For any person to handle that would be difficult, but combine it with the fact that she had just busted him out of jail for playing his own part in all that had happened, however justified that may be, towards a future that was as bleak if not more so… the pain must be unimaginable.

And she hadn't even asked.

"Hey, are you all right?" she softly questioned.

His unsteady eyes wavered at her soft, anxious question and he visibly gulped, his throat working furiously in an attempt to formulate, but no words came out. Was he alright? He couldn't even process all that was happening, much less whether he was okay with it. If he were to close his eyes, he could still feel his dad pulling him towards their Newport home, promising him that this time would be different... promising him that _he_ would be different, promising him the fresh start that he had always wanted. Everything had changed that night in the warehouse. His whole life had been turned upside down in that one cataclysmic moment and now he was left clutching at the straws and his dad... his dad... his dad... He shook his head and bit his bottom lip painfully. He couldn't allow his emotions to run amok like that, couldn't allow her to see just how broken he was. "The last time I was here… it seems a million lives away." He took a small step forwards, the ball of his feet burried deep into the floor as gave a painful shrug. "I was welcome then."

"You are still welcome now."

Abruptly his eyes clashed with hers, as just for a moment, the vulnerability and the pain that he was so desperately trying to hide, shone through. "Am I really?"

Try as she might, she couldn't lie to him. Forget what Ryan would say, or how Jason would behave, forget about everyone else; she herself wasn't sure just how much she could trust and welcome him here. All she knew for certain was that there was something in him—some indefinable quality that cried out to her and after the way he had shot to her defence in the prison, she couldn't have left him there.

"I don't know." She decided not to sugar coat. "I haven't even spoken to my husband and there are just too many things up in the air."

He got the unspoken meaning behind her words. "One of them being that Oliver is my dad." He looked up at the ceiling. "Was-" he tightly corrected.

She sighed. "Among other things."

He nodded mutely at her, his eyes downcast. Mr. Atwood had welcomed him before, helped him more than anyone else had ever done, but that had been before his dad had... And now... He didn't think his charity extended towards seeing the living, breathing proof of that mistake standing right in front his eyes. "I am sorry for what my dad did to you... and...I am grateful for all that you are doing for me. Really I am..., it's just... " he swallowed hard, and stared deeply at her . "I need to know why I am here."

She cocked his head to one side looking at him quizzically. "Well, what do you mean?"

"I mean…" He looked down at his feet, his voice was gruff with emotion, trying to hide the fear that he felt. "If anything else happened today… If I got hurt in any other way… I don't know how much more of this stuff I can take." he bit his bottom lip and painfully mumbled. "It would be better if I left."

His eyes were sooo brown as he said the words, but if she were to close her eyes, if... just for a second... she were to take herself to another time in her life, she could so easily mistake them for a deep, cerulean blue.

_I stole a car… crashed it. _

_Actually my brother did, but then he was drunk and he had drugs on him so now he is in jail. I got out… then my mom threw me out. She was a little pissed off and drunk. So, Mr. Cohen took me in._

She tightly shut her eyes, the memories crashing around her. The driveway dissolved, imperceptibly morphing into an empty pool.

_But your mom has to come back for you, right?_

_Nah... she is a bit of a trainwreck._

_And your dad?_

_Armed robbery. Impressive huh?_

She forcefully opened them, tears stinging at the back of them, as her heart went out for the boy he had once been. She forced herself to come back to the present, forced herself to realise the struggling boy standing in front of her. He was breaking down in front of her, slowly disintegrating... bit by bit... like chips from a fading wall and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

_'it would be better if i left'_

And he was trying to be so brave...

"Oh Honey, you don't have to do that." Swiftly in two quick strides, she crossed the room, enveloping him in a tight hug. "I don't know what is going to happen and I wish you didn't have to go through all that, but I promise you that we'll work through it. Trust me, eventually it'll be okay. I promise you that."

He clutched her tightly to him, clutched at the promise she was offering with all the strength that he possessed, as he desperately tried to burry himself in her soft neck. It had been so long since he had felt any kind of comfort that he lapped it up as fast as he could. He didn't have any energy left to fight, to be strong, to hold back any longer, as for once in his life, he felt himself completely crumble.

She could feel his fingers digging hard into her shoulders, feel the soft wool of her dress getting soaked where his head lay and her fingers shook as she comfortingly ran them through his hair, offering him what little comfort she could give.

"It's gonna be okay, baby… gonna be okay…" she soothed, as she felt the poignant tears crash and burn and soak and singe through her rapidly dampening shirt.

….

"Mom?" Jason tentatively whispered, as he stood in the hallway looking at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He had been playing Video games in the other room when he had heard voices coming form the end of the hallway. Thinking that one or both of his parents had come home, he picked himself up to see what all the noise was about. Lately, well more specifically since the new years eve, they were never in the best of moods and although he didn't understand everything that was going on, he was sure that his once upon a time friend, Seejay, was in the middle of it. So, the fact that Seejay was standing here, in his house no less, with his mom wrapped around him, shocked the hell out of him.

"Hey Baby..." Marissa exclaimed, disentangling herself from the embrace when she heard her son's voice. "I thought you weren't home. The lights were all off and your car wasn't in the driveway."

Momentarily distracted, Jason automatically answered. "Yeah, I had to take it to the garage for short wires, so Amy dropped me home."

"Oh okay, you should have your dad look at it." She answered casually, "It's happening quite often, isn't it?"

He looked at her queerly. He didn't get why was she talking about cars, and driveways and broken wires when the real question in the room, the real elephant in the room remained unanswered. "Yah… But mom," He was immedietely interrupted by her quelling glare.

"Honey, why don't you take Seejay up to the pool house and get him settled? I'll be out with you shortly and _then_ we'll talk." She pointedly muttered.

Getting the hint, Jason silently nodded. "Okay."

…

The ornate lights in the pool house weren't bright enough, she randomly thought, as she observed the pool house doors from her vantage point on a bench at the far end of the pool. She'd have to get Ryan to change that. And the sheets were pink. What guy liked to sleep on pink sheets? She'd have to get Rosa to spread some new ones, probably blue. And there was the small matter of a tooth brush, a tooth paste, some clean clothes to sleep in etc… etc… etc..., that she hadn't yet attended to. She didn't think that bag that he lugged around was of any use at all. Who the hell fit their entire belongings of fifteen years in one, small infinitesimal, non- colour coordinated duffel bag anyways? Wait, Ryan did.

_God, Ryan once did that._

She knew she was rambling, she knew her thoughts were bordering on crazy but she was very, very close to the edge, the decision she had made weighing heavily on her heart. Kirsten must have seen him exactly the way she was seeing Seejay now. Sitting here, on the deck next to her pool, had she seen the same hopelessness, the same struggle beyond the pool house doors that very first night? Had she felt the same fear, the same apprehension of making a horribly mistake?

She felt, rather than saw her son sitting next to her, but her eyes never wavered from the pool house doors as they silently took in the boy sitting at the very edge of the makeshift bed—his face in his hands, hung between his shoulders. It was unfair for so young a person to suffer so much, when all he should be doing is worry about girlfriends, and school and whether the next Vin Diesel movie had the kind of action he was hoping for. But, she guessed life wasn't fair. Hell, she _knew_ life wasn't fair. Suddenly she felt grateful and terribly glad that she could protect her children from all of that.

"Grace… Is she alright?"

"She's trying to get Rosa to teach her Spanish." Jason answered easily from beside her. "But other than that, she is spiffing fine. It's Rosa, I am worried about."

She permitted a soft chuckle to escape her lips."The last time she tried that our nanny left within a week. How long do you think Rosa is going to last?"

"Probably less than that." They shared a laugh. Little moments. Like dittany. Spreading and sifting, just temporarily healing until the cut spread anyway.

"Mom?" Jason prodded, asking the question that hovered silently in the air, "What's going on? What's Seejay doing here?"

She considered not telling him for a moment, considered protecting him, but quickly decided against it. He deserved to know the whole story from her and form his own impression. He was old enough for that. "We should have spoken to you sooner," she began, "explained to you better, right after the New Years, but with everything that had happened and the atmosphere in our house was so strained we just… we thought we would protect you from all of that."

"I am not a small boy anymore."

"I know that honey," she ruffled his hair tenderly. "But it's kinda our job."

He nodded at her, dismissed her over-protective words immediately. "So who exactly is this Oliver? And what has he got against you guys?"

"Had-" she sighed. "He is dead now."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She paused and took a deep breath, and wondered just how she was going to put the whole Oliver thing in front of her son. Slowly she relayed to him the entire sordid saga, told him of the time that Oliver had come into their life, told him what he had done to her, told him about the kidnapping and her going to meet seejay in jail. She told him everything as clearly as she could while protecting him from the more sordid details as he looked on at her with rapt attention.

"No wonder Dad wanted to kick that scumbag's ass." He angrily breathed. "If you'd told me sooner, I'd do too. The Jackass!"

"Jason!" Marissa exclaimed.

"What?" he defiantly muttered. "I would."

"No, you wouldn't." she stated angrily. "There are going to be no more fights. We've been over this once; we've been over this a hundred times. No fights."

"Fine!" he glared. They stood like that, both in deadlock, her angry at him and him staring mutinously at her. It irritated her that he would be so pigheaded about this. Boys… why didn't they understand there was more to life than fights. Her gaze once again glanced at Seejay through the clear panes of the doors. He hadn't moved from his position yet, and the only way anyone could know that time had elapsed, was if you noticed that his head had come up a little bit and he was now staring at something clutched tightly in his hands. He just looked so lost. She never wanted Jason to feel that way.

"Mom, I've got to hand it to you." He said after a long moment, lightening the mood. "You lived one hell of a crazy teenage life."

"You could say that again." She bitterly laughed. "But, we never expected our past to come and bite us in the butt like that."

"Please dont say 'butt'", he teased.

"Sorry." She blushed, looking at him sheepishly. "never again."

The time had gone by so quickly that she hadn't realised how late it was. The balmy evening had turned to a starry night. The gentle breeze ruffled and the shining and shimmering pool glittered against the moonlight. She would soon have to go inside, make sure that Grace was up and ready for dinner. And Ryan would be home any moment now.

"So what's going to happen to Seejay?" Jason piped softly from beside her. "I mean, his dad is dead now… and I don't think he has anywhere left to go."

"He can stay here for a while," she truthfully answered. "Just until we can figure out what to do. I haven't even spoken to your dad yet. And Ryan isn't going to be too happy with Seejay."

"But Seejay isn't like that." Jason forcefully whispered. "He could never do what that bastard… sorry for the language… did to you."

The young were the innocent, she thought. They always believed everything at face value and they never judged. "We don't know what happened or how involved Seejay was."

"No. I am sure of it," Jason rejoined. "I have seen him... spoken to him… I know him. He could never do that."

She turned to look at him, look at his trusting, innocent, clear blue eyes. She wanted to assure him in the same breath that she wanted to warn. He had never truly faced a crisis before, never had someone betray him, and had never seen the cruel side of life. She wanted to holler at him 'look out', but at the same time she wanted to allow him to make his own mistakes and learn from them. The two contradictory emotions pulled at her. "I hope you are right. I really do, with all my fingers crossed. But until we know for sure, all we can do is wait… and hope that by bringing him here, I haven't done a terrible mistake."

…

Ryan dropped his keys on the foyer as he got out of his work jacket and loosened his tie. After a long day at work, he liked nothing better than to rid himself of his less than flattering attire. Although he donned the ensemble that was required for his position, he had never quite liked it. He was more of a T-shirt and jeans kind of a guy. The pants and the shirts and the ties always felt a little stifling to him. Thinking back to the time when he could wear just that, thinking back to the time when he worked construction, he grinned to himself. Who'd have thought that he would have gotten where he was now. Without Sandy...none of this would have been possible. He would still probably be working construction or even worse... in jail. And without Marissa... well... he would be just as lost. The last couple of weeks had been hard for them as a family. Something had not quite felt right. Marissa was not herself, Jason was unusually quiet and Grace had been dull. And, it was all because of... Oliver. A sigh of relief had escaped his lips when he had heard the news today. At least now, they could finally begin to move on.

And it was the weekend. Perfect.

Walking into their kitchen, a huge grin formed on his face, as he looked at the mother and daughter pair standing side be side with their backs to him. Marissa was chopping a salad for their dinner, while Grace was perched neatly on the kitchen counter, her blonde hair mingling with that of Marissa's, her ever roving, mischievous hands playing happily with Marissa's hair. Neither had noticed that he had entered, so he just decided to take his own fun and observe them unnoticed. On a closer look, that wasn't exactly what their daughter was doing. Strangely amused and seriously horrified at the extent of his daughter's larceny, he saw Grace sneakily pull the broccoli and the baby tomatoes out of the bowl that Marissa was putting in, and carefully apply Gel-O to them so that they would stick. Doubly making sure that her mom wasn't paying any attention to her, she slyly applied them on Marissa's long hair giggling at her mom's stupidity and her own handiwork.

Suppressing a chuckle at his daughter's devious games, he wondered whether he should alert Marissa to it. But, really, his daughter was doing for free what he would have paid her to do; i.e. get Marissa mad. He loved the way Marissa's eyes flashed when she got angry turning a deeper shade of blue, or the way her chest heaved with frustration when she screamed empty threats at their daughter, or the cute, puppy dog look she threw his way when Grace just wouldn't stop. Hell, he even liked the way she snuggled into him, needing the reassurance because she made Grace cry. Besides, he figured, _mad_ Marissa equalled a _horny_ Marissa. And he LOVED _horny_ Marissa!

"Mommy, your hair looks pretty." Their daughter declared, when her handiwork was completed to her satisfaction.

"Umm, yah, okay…" Marissa muttered distractedly. So intent was she on the job in front of her that she didn't realise. "Honey, please stay away from the bowl. The edge is sharp. You could get hurt,"

"Okay Mommy," she giggled devilishly, her blonde curls bouncing around her round, plump face. "But, first you have to see your hair. So pretty…"

"My hair?" Marissa innocently asked, completely clueless and Ryan had to suppress another laugh. God, this was fun. "Umm, what's with my hair?" Involuntarily, her hand ran across the sticky mess and the moment it did, the entire caricature of sticky tomatoes and broccoli fell down with the thud and Marissa yelped in surprise.

"Grace Atwood… you sneaky little…"

"You really can't blame her." He laughed, as he entered the kitchen. Walking to her side, he ran his hand through the sticky mess of her hair and sexily grinned at her. "It looks like Cameron Diaz in 'there's some thing about Mary'" he gave her a completely and obviously lewd once over. "Really, very pretty."

Marissa rolled her eyes at him, annoyed. "Right!"

"No, Seriously," He teased, locking his arms across her waist as he pulled her in for a long, deep kiss, and then just… forgot to stop as he took her lips again and again _and_ yet again. "Heady," he purred… "and addictive… and sexy as hell… and…" he moved softly against her neck. "and did I mention pretty?"

"Ryan…" she breathlessly laughed, forgetting why she was angry. Pulling away from him, she looked at him quizzically. "What's with the mood?"

"What? Can't I kiss my wife?" He naughtily challenged, cocking his eyebrows playfully up at her. "Besides, it's the weekend. Live a little."

There was no way she could resist _that_. Thankfully Grace interrupted them; otherwise she wasn't sure where this would lead. Wait, she was... with her flat on her back and a thousand dollar worth of kitchen appliances down on the floor.

"Daddy!" Grace squealed, running up at her father at full force the moment she realised he was there. Picking her up in one fluid motion, he twirled her around making her giggle. The moment he stopped, she scrambled up him like a monkey and sat pat on his shoulders. "Daddy, you're home." She happily sighed.

"Were you being naughty for your mommy?" He playfully asked.

"Maybe…" She bit her lower lip in the cutest way possible and pouted up at him, "Am I in trouble?" she didn't miss a trick in the book. She was such a little Marissa.

"Well that depends." He answered, blowing loud, wet raspberries against her soft belly. "Tickle trouble, that's for sure."

"No, Daddy, No." Giggling and screaming, she fought against Ryan's strong hands. "Daddy, please, It tickles… it tickles so bad."

Marissa leant against the kitchen counter as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. It looked like one of those Kodak moments that you wanted to capture but never could, unless they came out all natural. She sighed. He looked so happy. It seemed cruel to do this to him right now. But she knew she had no choice. She had to ell him what she had done. She had to tell him about Seejay. Seejay was staying in their poolhouse and she didn't want him accidentally running in on him. Now THAT would go down well.

"Grace, honey…" she regretfully called, finally breaking their moment. "Baby, why don't you see what your brother is up to? Daddy and I need to talk."

Frowning at her, Ryan brought Grace down and placed her on the floor.

"But, mommy, I want to play with daddy." Grace immediately whined, not willing to let her Daddy go just yet.

"Baby, please don't be difficult." Marissa ordered.

"But, Mommy…"

Ryan gently bent down till he was eye level with Grace and looked into her apprehensive eyes. "Baby, do what mommy says. I promise you we'll finish this later."

"You promise?" she cocked her head, meeting his eyes hopefully.

He smiled as he playfully touched the button of her nose with his fingertips. "I promise."

…

The _easy_ grace with which he pulled open the fridge and drew out his favourite beer, the _sweet_ way in which he helped her pick up the mess that Grace had made on the floor, the _relaxed_ way he moved towards her before placing a sexy kiss on her shoulder when he leaned over her to pick up something from the counter, the _casual_way he rested against the kitchen table as he silently asked her what she wanted to talk about… was all lost, the moment she opened her mouth.

The easy grace with which he pulled open the fridge and drew out his favourite beer and took a long swig, the sweet way in which he helped her pick up the mess that Grace had made on the floor, the relaxed way he moved towards her before placing a sexy kiss on her shoulder when he leaned over her to pick up something form the counter, the casual way he rested against the kitchen table as he silently asked her what she wanted to talk about… was all lost, the moment she opened her mouth.

"You did WHAT?" Shock and incredulity rapidly replaced them as he blew up at her. "NO."

"Ryan, please…" She begged.

"NO." He hated to deny her like that. But there was just no way… NO. He still had trouble actually believing the words that he was hearing. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up in frustration. "What the hell were you thinking, Marissa?"

"I wasn't, at least not at first." she bit her bottom lip guiltily. "But then, he came to my rescue in the prison, and you should have seen the guy, Ryan…" she implored. "He really shouldn't have been going up against that guy, but he did. And… well, they were going to kill him in there." She shrugged helplessly up at him, "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to let it be." He angrily sighed, pacing the room from side to side. "You were not supposed to allow a guy who has already hurt this family... another shot at it. You were not supposed to give him another chance."

She scrutinised him for a moment as she looked at him pointedly. "When did you become so cynical, Ryan?" she silently asked.

"I've always been cynical." He balefully answered. It wasn't that he didn't understand her need to save someone. Hell, he understood that perfectly well. But this was Seejay they were talking about. Seejay, as in Oliver's son. And after all that had happened… No. "When did you become so sanctimonious?" he questioned.

"He didn't do it, Ryan," She softly whispered. "It was Oliver's fault."

"And you really believe that?" he incredulously looked at her.

"Yes."

"Well, I don't," he firmly argued. From experience he knew that it never worked that way. He also knew that Marissa had a penchant for trusting the wrong people. And, so what if at the start it had been him that had believed that Seejay was a good guy… And so what if he knew that he would be applauding her right now if it had been someone… anyone else that she brought home, and so what if... if in a small corner of his mind he actually admired her for having the guts and big heart to do what she had … well, SO WHAT! He wasn't taking the chance. "No, I don't believe it. Not with Oliver as his dad."

"Yes, Because we all know that that's what matters the most." She quietly retorted.

"And What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she cruelly answered, "That you of all the people should know that it shouldn't matter who your parents are or where you come from."

He felt as if he had been slapped as he looked at her. After seventeen years of marriage, after three more years of being together, after knowing all that she knew about him, did she really think that he didn't get _that_? Was he being hypocritical in not giving Seejay a chance? Was he not upholding the standards that Sandy had set for him by not giving Seejay a chance? Was there even a modicum of truth to that?

His blue eyes locked with hers as he rolled his tongue across his lower lip and clenched his jaw against the emotions that he felt swirling in his mind. His constant need to do the right thing, his almost desperation to give back to the world the same chance that he had been given, warred painfully with his need to protect this family and make sure they suffered no harm. He felt spliced in two. Part of him rejoicing in the way Marissa had helped this hurt and lonely boy, and the other part horrified. If only it was someone… anyone except Seejay that Marissa had brought home…

"Do you know what I went through when I realised that you had been kidnapped?" his voice shook with rough with emotion. "Do you have any… any idea of the amount of fear and desperation I felt when I walked in on you bound and helpless at the mercy of that jerk?" he took a deep breath and looked at her. "He could have avoided that." He stated simply, poignantly, "_If_ he would have come to me sooner. But he chose not to." He sighed, gruffly. "How I can I trust a guy after that?"

She had always been able to read Ryan easily, and she knew first hand how protective of her Ryan could get, but she wanted him, no... needed him to give Seejay a chance. She truly believed that she wasn't wrong and she truly believed that Ryan would regret it later on if he didn't. "I get it, okay." She softly whispered, holding tightly to his hands. "I get why you can't do that. And I know why you can't trust him. I am not even asking you to. I am asking you to trust _me,_" She implored, looking up at him with soulful, glassy, wet, blue eyes. "I am asking you… no begging you to take a chance."

He was powerless to deny her when she was like that. "Fine!" he caved. "But as soon as the offices open on Monday, he goes out. And I don't care where…."

The fifth plate set on the dinner table was empty. Except for Grace creating her regular, dinner table ruckus and Jason interjecting one comment here and there, all was silent. They both barely looked at each other as they waited for the fifth chair to fill.

"Jason, could you go and check again?" Marissa asked, looking at the pool house doors.

"He said he is not hungry, mom."

"I'll go." Ryan interjected, as Marissa's surprised blue eyes flew up at him. This was no caring visit. This was no concerned hand. This was just a means of knowing what the hell Seejay was up to. "I just want to check him out."

They had never planned on using the Pool house; both knowing that it was built more for sentimental reasons than anything else. And then, when the size of their household grew, it had been Jason's first crib, then for some time a storage place, and later, Grace's playground. So it was decorated in that way… with pink sheets and neon lights and toys that glittered and scattered every which way.

He wondered if Marissa knew what it would do to him, walking up to this particular room like that. Wondered if some part of her had purposefully done that, knowing it would set him at a clear disadvantage. No matter. If he thought about it long enough, he would feel safer having Seejay outside rather than inside the house anyways.

The doors creaked open under his hands, and the blinds were drawn; the lamp, the only source of light, casting a dull glow on the lone occupant of the rusty room. He seemed not to have noticed his presence, seemed not to notice much of anything else as he sat at the very corner of the bed clutching something tightly in his hands. He looked frail and easily breakable as he stared at the contents with something close to desperation in his eyes. Ryan's eyes scanned across the room seeing NOTtheneon lights or the bright pink sheets or the glittery toys but instead he saw a different room, a different place, a different time… a different boy.

"Staring at it, wishing for it, won't make it come back."

It was as if his voice was a blast of ice cold water, so fast did Seejay stand up. Overwhelming fear and incredulity reflected in Seejay's voice, like he had just been woken up from a bad dream, like he wasn't quite sure of where he was or how he got there as he furiously looked to his surroundings and then towards Ryan. "Wh…whh…what?"

Indicating to the photograph in Seejay's hand, Ryan pointedly answered. "Staring at it… It never helps."

Immediately Seejay's eyes dropped down, as he bit his cheek and muttered in a small voice. "How would you know?"

"I've been there. I've done that." Ryan shrugged. "I know."

Seejay's eyes flew towards him, assessing the truth of his words and when he saw how clear they were, he believed that maybe there was truth in it after all. His lower lips trembled as he desperately tried to stem the tears that threatened to spill across his eyes. "It is the only photo of my dad I got."

Ryan sighed. He _knew_that too. He had done the same thing with the photo of his father the first couple of times before, annoyed, Trey had snatched it away. Walking towards the cabinet where he knew that they kept the band aids and the disinfectants he pulled out a small bottle of Dettol. Picking at the cotton from one of the bags, he brought it to where Seejay absently sat. He seemed removed from his surroundings, removed from everything around him and Ryan had to grant, that even in his darkest hour, he had never been this broken.

He soaked the cotton in a generous amount of Dettol and sat down next to him. "Dab them there." He indicated at the various blue, purple and brown bruises littered across his face, neck and hands and handed him the cotton, figuring any kind of touch at this stage would only have him scampering back. "It helps."

Seejay's hands shook as he took them from him, and he stared at Ryan with confused eyes wondering why this man was helping, or even cared. When the first couple of attempts failed, Ryan pulled the cotton away and finished the job himself.

"I… I am sorry." Seejay brokenly whispered. It came out more like a tortured plea. "I... I… I didn't want to do it. I… I kept telling my dad. But he… I… he… and then he was pulling a gun and… well, you were there… and you had been so nice… and… and…" the tears spilled, fast and hard and watery. "And now he is dead."

There was just something too honest and too poignant in the words for Ryan to think that they were fake. There was something too raw and painful for him not to recognise the similarities there. He couldn't believe that he was going to utter the next words as he pressed his hands deep into Seejay's shoulders. "It wasn't your fault." Ryan sighed. From experience he knew no words of comfort ever helped. He had gone through this. He, if anyone, knew just how hard it was. He leant a little forwards and looked at the lost and lonely boy. Talking about those parts of his life was still difficult. Guessed would always be difficult. "If I tell you that I have been in this position… If I tell you that I have lost someone like that… would you believe it of me?"

"No."

"Well. I have." Ryan answered simply, staring hard into his blood shot eyes. "And trust me it gets better with time."

Seejay took deep, rattling breaths at the words. Again, and again, and again, and yet again. The voice that came out was breathy and barely audible, a conglomerate of facts and illusion as the two blended as they so often did. "You don't get it, Mr Atwood. I pushed the trigger." It cracked, till Ryan could barely make out the words and he realised that the guilt was completely focused inwards. "I wanted to pull the gun away. I… didn't want him to hurt anyone. But, I was the one who pushed the trigger. And I was the one who..." He hung his head down in shame and remorse and just a little bit of everything as if he was still clutching at the incomprehensible straws of his life. "And now everything is a mess."

"Well, not everything." Ryan found himself answering. Pointing towards the glow, coming through their dining room, where Marissa stood clutched to the window staring at them, with Grace on her shoulder and Jason standing beside her, he motioned towards himself. "You do have this one dinner left."

….


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter *8*:

A/N:

_This chapter is Ryan's POV._

_I don't think that it is possible for Ryan to get a broken kid home and not have flashbacks of his own life. Therefore, as clichéd as it gets, I have to put them there. Some are from the canon, some are of my own imagination – conversations that I felt could have happened between the Cohen's and Ryan when he was first brought home. This chapter focuses on Ryan's vacillation as he feels pulled in two different directions – a part of him wanting to accept this boy and give him the life that the Cohen's had given him and the other part not so sure how to let go of the fact that he is Oliver's son. As much as it pains me, I think it is realistic that Ryan wouldn't be able to let go of the hurt inflicted on him by Oliver so easily, nor do I think he can trust Seejay that quickly. It's just not in his nature to trust easy._

_I am sorry if it gets a little confusing at the start. Just go with it and you'll see._

_It starts exactly where the last scene left off – with Ryan and Seejay walking towards the house._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed. This story is close to my heart, so it means a lot. Any feedback, good or bad is appreciated. _

Marissa pretends to be busy, Jason acts like putting that gob of spaghetti in his mouth is the most important thing in the world and even Grace is silent, staring at them with wide, speculative eyes.

He walks a little behind -

- observes as Seejay lumbers in the middle of the room and looks awkwardly around, like he isn't quite sure what to do with himself now.

For a second there is pin drop silence. Nobody speaks. The clutter of china against china, as Grace bangs her spoon against her bowl is the only sound that is heard. It is a mark of seriousness that none of them, not even Marissa makes any move to stop her.

"Ryan…" thinking the worst she looks at him, holds his gaze, fully prepared to do battle to protect what she feels is right. The unspoken question hovers silently in the air.

He pauses. Runs a shaky hand through his hair and sighs. "Seejay is going to stay with us now…at least for a while."

He doesn't realise how much the admission costs him. He isn't prepared for it, prepared for the way it makes him feel like he's done the best and the worst thing in the world. Saying the words out loud make them more permanent and he still isn't sure what he feels about them, still isn't sure if he can accept them in their whole connotation. He wants to… But, he _can't_. This boy is a part of someone he wants to forget and yet he feels a connection with him, borne of their broken past.

His uttered words have the desired effect on his family. The dam breaks, the tense shoulders relax and everyone start talking at the same time. Jason claps Seejay on the shoulder and yells a welcome; Grace shrieks a 'yay!' and Marissa looks at him with relief, giving him a brilliant smile and then falters… seeing the look in his eyes. He isn't looking at her. His eyes are still locked on Seejay's - chocolate brown eyes that stare at him with something more that simple gratitude and that expression on his face… he knows that so well.

_He still can't believe that he is back here. When he'd burnt one of her creations, when he'd gone to prison for it, he thought he was done for. He hadn't expected her to come and meet him. And now he is here - again... and he has no idea what the hell any of it means. He walks towards the fridge, sees Sandy and Kirsten talking quietly out of the corner of his eye. They pause whatever they are saying the moment he enters, and he knows they are talking about him. He pulls open the fridge, takes out a drink and pretends not to notice them. That's when he hears the words - _

_'Ryan's going to stay with us now...'_

_If anyone were to ask him what he felt at that moment, they would be surprised with the answer they'd get. Most would expect him to be insanely happy that he has got this new life, got the chance that millions like him would kill for. And he is happy - insanely so - but that isn't the predominant thought in his mind. That place is reserved for millions of other things - FEAR: the fear of screwing up, PAIN: the pain of losing his family, APPREHENSION: the apprehension of not fulfilling the expectations that Sandy and Kirsten have for him, and GRATITUDE: such overwhelming gratitude towards this amazing pair for having the guts and the inclination to do what they have done. They've taken pity on him when his own mother didn't. And he has never worn pity well. But he does that now, with a smile on his face._

_A beautiful, sad, broken smile. _

'_I'll unpack later.' _

"Sit." Marissa orders, shooing Seejay towards the empty chair. Their dining table is small, round not square, selected especially by Marissa because she had felt that it would be easier for the both of them to connect with everyone around, to reach Grace should she require the assistance but now he curses that decision, because it means he has to sit here and look at him... look at his face as he eats when all he wants is to escape. "What'll you have? We have the pasta… and some Indian… and Chinese… and… well, there is the left over Thai from yesterday if you are in the mood for that." She fusses over him, as she piles one thing after the other on his plate. She is trying so hard to make him feel comfortable. She wants so hard to help. And it shows in every move that she makes. He wishes that he could be that free with his emotions, wishes he could be that accepting and trusting - But he isn't. Oliver is always there when he looks at him, like a shadow that trails.

"You made all this?" Seejay asks, overwhelmed.

"No, I ordered." She smiles at him. "But I did make the salad. So…" she tries to cajole him into eating "… What'll you have?"

"Anything will do." He looks down shyly, an embarrassed flush creasing his cheeks. "Beats the prison food at any rate." He roughly whispers.

The silence that follows his inadvertant words is the product of pity and shock they feel towards him, but he misinterprets it as he looks up fearfully, afraid that he has offended them somehow. "I am sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't." Marissa admonishes. "Don't beat yourself up over nothing. Its okay." She runs a hand gently through his hair to console him, but he abruptly flinches, turning his head to the other side and avoids her touch at all possible cost. She lets her hand fall, surprised at the suddenness and the force of his actions but _he_ isn't surprised. He knows the meaning behind the actions, understands the story behind the words better than anyone else, and in this moment he hates Oliver more than he ever has. Because he always thought he was that guy - the guy who would swoop down and save another kid from a broken home, the guy who would pull a Sandy Cohen and pay back to the world what he got, the guy who would open his heart and his home completely and thoroughly if he ever got the chance. And now he has the chance, but he isn't that guy anymore. And he hates Oliver so much for doing that.

_One after the other the blows come, the pummeling fists that are meant to hurt, but this time he is prepared for it, this time he isn't going to take it lying down. He blocks it with both his hands, swiftly turns around and hits him back. Offense is his best defence. And right now, he doesn't care about the consequences. All he cares about is to get the release from the anger and the hurt that wounds his body into ten different coils. The moment his fist connects, he knows that he has done the wrong thing. _

_'Dawn.' the man shouts, crying and limping into their kitchen. "Look what your son did."_

_"Oh My God, Oh My GOD. RYAN! Get your ass in here right now!' His mom shouts. _

_Fuck, She was going to kill him now for hitting her boyfriend. She was going to blame him for the failure of yet another one of her pathetic relationships. Or she was going to hit him in front of her boyfriend to soothe him and show him where her loyalties lay. And its more Fuck, to her and to him, that for his mom, he will always be the one that's in the wrong._

_'sometimes when... ummm... when i wasn't in the state to protect Ryan, he got hit on once in a while.' His mom utters, much later when they are sitting with the Cohen's having dinner and he can't believe, he can't fucking believe that she brought this shit up. He fucking can't believe that she has absolved herslelf of all the blame, like those boyfriends of hers were his fault and she was a mere bystander, can't believe that she is telling a decent lady like Kirsten all that. He doesn't want that shit to taint this house, a house that in so many ways he considers his sanctuary and he explodes. 'Mom, fucking stop... just stop talking right now.' _

_He pushes the table and gets up, walks out, runs towards the four walls of his pool house. His mom follows. She pleads. She cries. She consoles. But he doesn't listen. Much later, Kirsten does the same, but for very different reasons. She wants to care for him, take away his hurt, but it's her touch that scares him the most when she brushes his hair off his face. Because he has just realised that he can never dissociate a tender touch from the hard blows inflicted on his mind. And he flinches like before expecting much worse, but all he feels is a feather light touch._

"Mommy, can I play with Seejay?" Grace whines. "I am done with food and I wanna show him my doll collection and I wanna play boogaboo and the road warrior and the princess carmen and… and…"

"Grace slow down." Marissa laughs. "Seejay still has to have his food. Besides he is tired so don't go troubling him just yet."

"I don't mind." Seejay quietly answers, but then falters seeing the look in his eyes. His eyes are dull, conveying a deadly warning that tell him that he is watching for him to make one wrong move, take one false step and should he choose to do so, he wouldn't be prepared for the kind of consequences he would have to face. Juvie would sound good compared to what he has in store. Maybe he goes over the top, but he wants this kid to understand exactly what will happen if he tries to hurt them, wants this kid to know that he doesn't trust him with his precious daughter just yet. "If… it's okay with Mr. Atwood." Seejay blubbers, scared of his eyes.

"Will she be safe?" He questions. The tension in the room rises another notch, becomes a palpable force and Seejay mutely nods up at him.

"And can I trust you?" The words are laced with a much deeper meaning.

"Ryan!" Marissa gasps, shocked at the rudeness of his words.

"Dad…" Even Jason looks scared. Jason has never seen him like this - Chino style.

Seejay's eyes never waver from his. "Yes." He gulps. "Yes… You can trust me."

Its his eyes more than his words that do the trick. "Good." His voice falls down an octave. "I am glad."

_He is badly bruised from the blows that Luke and his cronies have given him as a 'welcome to Newport' guesture, and he is just trying to get to the fridge for the ice, when Kirsten's words stop him dead. _

_'how do you know he isn't here to case the house?' _

_'He isn't a criminal mastermind, Kirsten.' Sandy defends._

_'And Seth? Have you thought about what kind of an influence he would have on Seth?'_

_'The good kind. I hope.'_

_'Sandy…' Kirsten drawls. He can almost feel the scepticism and the censure in her voice._

_'What?' Sandy protests. 'you can't pretend that seeing him doesn't shake you up.'_

_'I am thinking of Seth.' she shouts. 'And after what happened tonight… Seth's never been in a brawl.'_

_He feels bad about it. The moment he had seen Seth, he had known that he wasn't equipped to deal with the real world, to deal with brawls and fights. He liked that about him, admired the fact that he was so untouched, so different from what he was. Even Marissa seemed hardened and battle weary as compared to Seth. And now he has managed to drag such a kid into a world he had never known existed. The damn Atwood luck. How does he manage to screw up every fucking time._

_'I want him out of here.' Kirsten orders and although he feels hurt, he understands where she is coming from. If seth was his kid, he would try his damndest to keep him away from kids like himself._

'_You don't have to worry Mrs Cohen.' He says softly, without any of the censure he feels as he walks into the room making his presence felt for the first time. 'Come tomorrow morning, I am gone.'_

'_I'll take him' Sandy silently agrees._

"Yay!" Grace shrieks as she jumps up and down trying to get up out of her chair. She loves a new friend and she is excited to show Seejay her room. "Lets gooooo."

"Grace Atwood. Sit down right this minute." Marissa shouts. 'You don't get up from a dinner table before everyone else finishes. Have I taught you nothing?'

"But mommy…"

"I said sit."

She sucks on her thumb and sits back mutinously.

"And don't do that." Marissa pulls the finger out of her mouth.

Grace sticks her tongue out at her mom and taunts.

Marissa rolls her eyes at their daughter's antics, half annoyed, half exasperated. "Really Ryan, I am never having kids again."

"You said that when we had Jason." He smirks.

"And see where that got us?" she retorts. "Next time we listen to me."

"People like you should have kids." The words fly out of Seejay's mouth before he can stop them and its a toss up between who is more surprised. "You have what it takes." He mumbles, as a way of explanation.

"Oh honey… thanks." Marissa answers. "But I was just venting. I didn't mean that." she laces her hands with Ryan's and shares a soft smile. "If we are lucky enough to have more kids, I know that I'll love them more than life itself, even if they turn out worse than this brat.'

He smiles at Marissa, before he catches the yearning, jealous, longing expression plastered on Seejay's face. He knows it only too well because he has worn it before – exactly twenty years back.

'I wish i had a mom, even if she vented.' Seejay brokenly whispers, and he feels himself gasp. The memory that follows this, is the hardest for him to hold, and he feels his eyes shut down, feels his breath comig in short gasps as he remembers the time when he first realised that he was all alone.

_Ryan… I am sorry. But you have to leave._

_What, mom, please… what am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?_

_I don't know Ryan. But, I want you out of this house._

_But mom…_

_No. I don't care Ryan. I can't handle you anymore._

_I am sorry mom. I'll do anything I swear. Please don't ask me to leave..._

_Go… just go._

He abruptly gets up as the walls start closing in around him. He can't handle it. He can't handle the memories, and the concerned looks that Marissa shoots at him, but more than that he just can't handle reliving every single, painful step of his life sitting here in front of this boy and knowing he can do not to help him. He finds himself lacking, and it is that which is the hardest for him to deal. "I'll be in our room" He calls, looking over at the dissapointment that marres Marissa's face and knowing that it is mirrored in his.

'Why does daddy get to leave?' are the painful words that echo in his mind.

….

….

"Okay all done. Grace is read to, tucked in, kissed in… and Jason has stopped playing the music loud enough that we can sleep." Marissa talks to no one in particular as she wanders into their bedroom. She looks around, sees him standing at the window… staring into space. Even from this distance she can make out the tenseness in his shoulders, the stiffness to his body.

She moves towards him. "Hey… you alright?" she softly asks.

He doesn't look at her. Still stares into the infinite space. His jaw clenches. "The pool house… was it deliberate?"

She cocks her head to one side, confused at his question and then understanding dawns.

"No. I swear." She immediately answers. "I didn't even think of it when I put him there. I just wanted him away from the house when you came home. It wasn't until much later that I realised, but by then it was too late."

"It was spooky… walking into it like that." His voice is rough and it sounds like it comes from a million miles away. She grips his hands hard, laces their fingers together as she brings her closer to his body.

"I didn't see him Marissa…" Ryan abruptly looks at her. And what she sees has her blanching. His eyes are stormy, his voice is a tortured plea. "I didn't see him." he repeats. "I saw… me."

And God, his words. They are just… God. She has never seen him this shaken, and she can't believe that her one stupid mistake has made him feel like that. Looking at him like this, she curses herself for not having the foresight to get Seejay away from the pool house. What did she think? That he would forget about his past? That he would forget about what Oliver has done? She can't even begin to understand what he must be going through. She has been so stupid. She should have seen this. She should have prevented this.

"I am sorry. I'll get him out of there." She quickly answers. She can't take away the hurt. She can only try to prevent further damage. "He can stay downstairs."

"No. let it be."

"But…"

"No, let it be." He sighs, then pulls her towards him and leans his forehead against hers. "It feels right."

She snuggles into him… allows her head to nestle in the crook of his neck, allows her hands to snake across his waist as she places a soft kiss on the bare side of his neck.

"I am sorry." She apologises. "you dont know how sorry I am."

"Don't. Don't be sorry." he mumbles. He looks up at the ceiling in frustration and then looks back as he pulls slightly away from her. "You needed to do this. I get that. And you are right. He did jump in to help me that day and he lost his dad in the process, but…" he gulps. The words are so difficult to formulate. "Why is it so hard for me?"

He isn't questioning her decision. He is questioning his ability to do the right thing. He is questioning the man he is. And she can't take that. He is her husband. She knows him better than anyone else. And she knows who he is or the man he can be. And she can't allow him to doubt himself like that. She places the warm palm of her hand on the left side of his chest, feels his heartbeats rise. "Because you have the purest of hearts." she softly answers. "And you want to do right by him, even if you hate his dad."

He doesnt say a word as he pulls her towards him and burries his face in her neck. He dosn't say a word as he crushes her to him. But she gets it all the same. They stay like that... neither saying anything, just... being.

"Do you... do you want to send him back to the juvie?" She asks, after a long while. He doesn't answer and she feels her breath catch.

"What are you thinking Ryan?" She breaths. "I can't read you."

"I am thinking…" he prevaricates, his cheeks nuzzle the side of her soft hair. "I am thinking that I love the smell of your hair. And that I could stay in this moment forever."

She pulls back, looks at him sternly. "Ry, be serious. Please."

He sighs, knowing he can't avoid. "I think I want to get to know him." He answers balefully. When he looks at the delighted expression that crosses her face he interrupts, holding out his hands. "Wait, I am not saying that I am okay with him. Oliver is too much a part of him. But I want to try."

She gives him a brilliant smile. "But that's…That's great."

"You realise that I am not exactly saying that he can stay."

"No, you are saying that you want to give him a chance. That's all I wanted Ryan." She hugs him tightly, forcefully. "The rest is up to you."

He locks his hands behind her waist and squeezes it in reply."Thanks for not pushing it."

"I trust you." She answers simply. "More than I trust myself. I know you will always do the right thing."

"And what if i am wrong?" he asks her, half teasingly, half dead serious.

"It woudn't matter." she replies confidantly. "If I have you by my side, nothing else will matter."

He kisses her softly… tenderly. "Sometimes you amaze me."

She grins against his mouth, "Sometimes I amaze myself."

He crashes his lips aginst hers in reply, probes her mouth with her tongue until they are both hot. "I love you."

She locks her hands behind his neck, tangles them against his soft hair and pulls him back. "Do you want to show me how much?"

"Later-" he smiles. "Somebody's got to finish those dishes."

"You are passing me up for dishes?" She pouts.

"Do you wanna do the honors?" His eyebrows shoot upwards, knowing full well how much she hates that.

She makes a disgusted face at the thought. "I think I'll pass."

"Thought so." He snorts, reluctantly disentangling himself from her arms.

"Fine. Go." she relents. "But if you're not up within half an hour..."

"you'll what?" He challenges.

"I'll start without you."

"Dont. I'll finish up quickly." He mutters eagerly.

...

He walks into their kitchen to do the dishes, only to see Seejay working diligently at them. "You don't have to do that." He blurts, surprised.

"Habit." Seejay quietly answers.

He sits at the counter, leans back and looks at him curiously. "Oliver… the Oliver I knew owned a dishwasher."

"You knew my dad…?" Seejay turns around, shocked.

"He didn't tell you?" He counters, genuinely surprised. He figures if Oliver had to get Seejay in on his plan, he would have told him so. Seejay seems like a smart guy. He would have protested otherwise. Unless, like Marissa thinks, he actually didnt know.

"He told me about your wife." Seejay mutters softly. "He told me you came in between them. I just figured…"

"That I was the bad guy." He supplies. It's the oldest story in the book.

"No." Seejay resignedly sighs, negating him. "I just figured that he lied. He does that a lot." Suddenly he chokes. "Sorry… did that a lot. I forget sometimes."

Again the conflictiong emotions come, a part of him wanting nothing more than to take away the pain, and the other part wanting to throw him out, but he has promised Marissa that he was going to give Seejay a chance, he has promised her that he would try, so he does exactly that. He gets up, walks towards where he is standing and picks up the spare cloth. "Here, let me help you."

They work like that, side by side, not a sound between them and yet the silence isn't awkward or painful. It should have been. But it isn't.

"You're good at it." Seejay remarks.

"Haven't done it in a while… but what d'ya know?" He smirks. "Old habits die hard."

"You don't own a dishwasher?" Seejay looks at him sceptically.

"I do now." He answers, "I didn't… once.' He gives him a sideways glance. 'In fact, it wasn't that long ago that I washed dishes with my hands.'

'I always do.' Seejay mumbles, looking down. 'It's always been me and my dad. And he was… well… he wasn't exactly fit enough to do any chores. I always used to do them. But when there were bad days, when he wasn't… he wasn't himself and he would...uhhh..." _Hit me... _He doesn't say the words. The meaning is just as clear if he would and he shudders. 'I would do it the hardest then. I found that the mere act of scrubbing…'

'…was cathartic. Made you feel like your problems could go away.' He finds himself involuntarily answering, looking at him with sad eyes.

Seejay's eyes lock, surprise and astonishment evident in them. His eyebrows draw together in a frown. 'How do you know so much about this? How do you know what I feel?"

he pushes the plates away, stacks them neatly in the corner, ignoring the question at hand. He isn't prepared to answer it just yet, isn't prepared to let him in that much. He walks towards the fridge, pulls open the freezer to pull out the butter and the cream. He smears one half of a bagel generously before sitting down on the counter chair. "Bagel?" he asks, pointing towards the other half.

"No... I… I dont want to." Seejay mumbles.

He can feel his eyes on him, and he answers the unspoken question without looking up. "Not now. Maybe ill tell you someday... But not now." he applies the cream on the other half and pushes the bagel towards him. 'For now, you eat. You hardly ate any dinner.'

"Well, neither did you." Seejay points out stubbornly.

"And that's why I'm having some." He says, giving him a half smile. "Besides, its one of the perks of being the parent here. I can get away."

Seejay pouts, sitting down beside him churlishly and picks up the other half, pushing it in his mouth. It almost makes him grin. He looks like such a kid now, with his hair falling on his head, his mouth half full with the bagel crumbs stuffed inside against his will. They eat silently concentrating on nothing but eating. Like before, the silence isn't awkward.

"What was my dad like… before?" Seejay suddenly asks, through his half full mouth.

"You should ask Marissa that." He answers blithely. He doesn't think he should taint Seejay's memories with the kind of things he knows about his dad. "He was her friend. I didn't know him that well."

"But still…" Seejay looks at him and implores, in a small, childish voice. "Anything will do. I just... I want to know."

"I once helped him out when he got busted for trying to buy coke." He wonders just how much he should say, but then decides what the hell. He doesn't think Oliver's changed any and Seejay seems to be the guy who had borne the brunt of Oliver for the better part of his life. He doesn't think anything he would say would shock Seejay. "It was the first time I knew a different side to him." He answers, trying to find his best memory of Oliver, for Seejay. "His parents were never around and I guess it was just his way to lash out. He was messed up, but he wasn't a bad person… at least not then." H answers gently.

"I guess I was just hoping that he had been different then." Seejay bites his bottom lip and guiltily sighs. "Like somehow I wasn't good enough for him and that's why he was…"

"Don't. You weren't responsible for him." Ryan interrupts, looking at him strongly. "It's usually the other way around."

Seejay looks down, mumbles a soft 'thanks' which he barely hears and then, "I am sorry... for everything." Seejay whispers.

"You said that before." He points out.

"I know… but I just… I know that it isn't easy for you to have me in this house." Seejay chokes. "I promise that I'll be out of your life as soon as I can."

"Don't." He presses a hand on his shoulder, stopping his words… his thoughts right where they are. He doesn't know from where the words come, or why he says them, or even why he stays. The dishes are all done. The bagel is eaten. There is nothing to keep him here, nothing to make him talk to a boy whose father he hates - hates from the bottom of his heart. And yet, sitting here beside him, talking… it feels right. They are bound together… bound by a similar life.

"I meant what I said before -" He answers. This time meaning it fully in all its connotations. "You are staying here…at least for a while."

"Why?" Seejay looks at him curiously.

"Its something I got to do." He answers simply. "Besides," He taunts, "I want my wife to be right about you. She has her hopes set and I'll never hear the end of it if I disappoint her."

"Your reasons are weird sometimes."

"I know." He chuckles. "Try being married for seventeen years, then you'll understand."

...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Seejay.

Loner.

Vagrant.

Crazy.

Hopeless.

Pathetic.

A loser.

So many adjectives that time and again get attached to my name. And i can identify and even accept some of them. I am a loser – what kind of a boy has no friends and no interest or ability in making them? I am a vagrant who time and again has to move from one place to the other, no real place i can call home, always having to hide from some deep secret or the other. It has come to the point where I am hiding from my own skin, forever shying off to the extent where i have no idea of my real feelings. I am Crazy and desperate – desperate to be alone and to live this life, hopeless to the thought of something new, brighter and different.

But I'm not a loner. Or at least I wasn't alone. Not really. Not like I am right now. So completely and utterly, so devastatingly alone.

My dad hadn't been the best that I could get. Most of the times I was the one taking care of him. Feeding him, clothing him, treating him – it all bought a strange sense of family to me. Even if these things weren't traditional, even if i was the one most of the time on the receiving end, still... there was a sense of togetherness in it. Of him needing me - _someone _needing me. And it fed a need within me to belong.

I belonged to him, just as much and just as surely as he belonged to me.

And now I belonged to no one. I ceased to exist the moment he ceased to breathe.

_The Gun, the cold hard metal that lay casually in his hands as he pointed it towards Mr. Atwood was all my eyes could see. I ran towards him, afraid he would make the biggest mistake of his life, of both of our lives. All my attention and my focus was getting it out of his hands. My shaking hands gripped the metal just when things seemed crazy and I just knew that he wouldn't fire at me. Even in his most desperate attempts I recognised that somewhere deep within him there existed a human being that loved me. And I knew he wouldn't fire. I don't know where the shot came from. It all just blurs, but the next thing i knew was that I was holding the gun. The coldness and the fire, it all just amalgamated as I watch my dad fall, watched the whole thing end. The sirens were distant, but I couldn't process, couldn't breathe and for one split second I looked accusingly at Mr Atwood. Till I saw the same accusation directed at me. I looked down and was almost surprised to see the smoking gun in my hand. Had it been me? Was it? Had I killed my dad? And then i remember nothing. The next thing I remember is waking up in a cold hard cell, the realization as striking as it was painfully true. It had been me. I was the one who had done it. Picked up a cold hard piece of metal and ended it all._

_ I had killed my dad. _

"No." I whisper. "No." A strange guttural sound escapes from my lips, a half cry, a half sob. The dancing peripheries of my consciousness recognize my shaking body, the liquid on my cheeks as tears. And then two small hands are shaking me, and I wake up with a start.

"Seejay..."

It takes a while for my eyes to adjust, even more time for my mind to understand where I am as my subconscious still lives in that cell, surrounded by the knowledge that it is where i belong, a place for criminals and killers, killers of their dad. I see in front of me.

Flopped on my bed like it's the most natural thing in the world, no guile and no judgement in her clear blue innocent eyes, Grace Atwood is shaking me. "Wake up... breakfast is ready."

My hands fly across my face trying to clear my mind, rid it of what I had seen, pinch myself so that somehow the reality doesn't sink in, even if i recognise it a futile process. She is pulling me now.

"Come on. We are going to be late and miss all the best pancakes."

"I just.." I am at a loss for words. What do I explain to this four year old? I cant eat pancakes, or eat, period, when everything around me screams that I am guilty.

And then she stares at me taking in the state of my clothes and the perspiration that stains my face and what I presume to be fear in my eyes. Her innocent, blue eyes turn questioning – "You had a bad dream?" She asks, sitting down beside me and cocking her head to one side. Her blonde curls dance in the incoming sunlight. "I have it too, many times. I just go to my mom and she makes me feel better."

I sigh defeated wanting to tell her that nothing will make it better, that no amount of hugging is going to change it. But somehow this four year old child gets it better than me. Her small delicate hands wipe the tears that stain my face. "You don't have a mom?" she asks, and when I shake my head, her hands go around me to my neck, her small body fitting into the part of my chest that beats, her baby soft smell comforting and light. "My mom hugs me to make it better, so i'll do the same." She pulls away from me a little bit.

And then she smiles, grins actually - A toothy kind of a grin, the kind that shows small broken teeth and the lightness and the love in her heart. The purity of that smile affects me deeply, the guilelessness and the freedom of the thought beckons me to it and a corresponding childishness and innocence lights up within me.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks.

"Yes." I manage.

I am a little stunned for a second, having been unable to recognise the emotion. But it is potent nonetheless, as I freely smile back, the darkness in my heart receding. And then she is back to being a child as she pouts up at me.

"I'm hungry."

"Give me a second." I whisper. "I just need to brush my teeth."

"Okay." She flops back on my bed cool as you please, her attention diverted greedily at the remote which switches the TV on. I am sure there are some restrictions to her watching the TV. "Can I watch cartoons till then?" she pleads.

"Of course" I take the remote, switching the TV to the appropriate channel regardless of what her mom might permit. Her attention completely diverted, she turns her head to the TV, laughing at the Tom and Jerry that runs on. I stop the impulse to run my hands across those curls that are dancing on her forehead as she laughs. The emotions that i feel in my heart, the protectiveness and the wonder and the love are foreign and new. I shake my head and go to the bathroom. She is clueless as to what she has ignited in me, the kind of release she has given me by a simple act of kindness. But the darkness already seems so far away. In her innocent presence i cant think of a world that is marred by killings, drugs and abuse. She makes me believe in the perfect world that she lives in. And in that moment i realise, that i can be myself around her. No questions, no judgements, no answers. She doesn't demand any. All she needs is someone to play with. And i feel a sense of relief in that. Just for a few minutes life is as simple as watching cartoons on the television or dreaming of beautiful, hot pancakes.

When I come back she is exactly where i left her, sitting cross legged on the bed, making faces and smiling at whatever is on the show.

"I thought you wanted breakfast."

"Oh I forgot." She claps a hand on her forehead like she has forgotten the most important thing in the world. "Pancakes are my very favourite and Jason will eat all."

"Then let's go." I offer her my hand and immediately she clasps mine. I easily pick her up in my arms as i walk out of the pool house towards the kitchen. For a moment, I stare at the scenery in front of me. The beautiful infinity pool, the expanse of Newport than can be seen from here and the pristine whiteness that everyone takes for granted. I take a deep, hollow breath.

"It's beautiful."

"Wait till you see my room."

"Okay." I nod. "I am sure it's the best."

"It is." She answers, and then spotting her dad she jumps out of my embrace and runs towards him as in one fluid motion he picks her up. My eyes clash with his, a guardedness in him as he sees me with his precious daughter. We stare at each other for a while, and I wordlessly try to tell him that she is safe with me. I would never do anything to harm her. And then they change as somehow I know that he believes.

...

They all seem in a rush – hands flying, picking things and pulling stuff hurriedly as they assemble together at the table. He has his back to me, as he flips one pancake after the other, his shirt rolled up to his arms showing the working of those sinewy muscles. She looks perfect – standing beside him, her blonde hair straightened to fall in golden waves, her body clad in a one piece suit, a coffee mug delicately balanced in her hands as she absently looks through a magazine – she should have been a model. Jason sits beside me with a ball in his hand absently playing as he waits for his breakfast and Grace bangs her spoon on the table. They seem oblivious to the noise, like its the most natural thing in the world. It certainly seems natural at their breakfast table, a daily occurrence for sure.

"I can't believe that Football seasons over." Jason groans.

"You just don't like that you won't be getting any attention from those fan-girls anymore." Marissa teases him as she ruffles his hair.

"Mom.." he chides. "Please don't say fan-girls."

"So what should I call them? Groupies?" she taunts.

"Dad... make mom stop."

"Okay, okay, I give up." She sits in front of him and Mr. Atwood, Ryan (i'm still getting used to saying it like that) brings a plate full of pancakes and places it in the centre of the table. He takes one off it and flops it on my plate giving me a smile. I can't. I shy and hurriedly look the other way.

"Me too. Me too. Me too." Grace chants, apparently at the end of her patience. Rolling his eyes, he pulls her chair towards him, cutting a pancake neatly into pieces and placing it on her plate. She whines. "No daddy, you have to feed me."

"Grace.." he warns.

"Daddy..." she pouts. "Please. I want to eat with you."

He picks her up and places her on his lap finally giving in and sighs. Forking the pieces he dips it gently into the sauce and feeds her. With his other hand, he displaces the curls that come in the way and places a soft kiss on her cheeks.

"You are going to make me late, baby." He doesn't seem to mind it much. Instead I see a satisfaction in him, a pure contentedness and happiness at spending this time with his daughter even if it curtails and makes him late. I get jealous. I am jealous of these moments because I know I will never have them. My dad is dead. I killed him and the darkness washes over me once again. I look down and burry my face in my plate, afraid of what they will see in my eyes.

Marissa gets up a short while later. "Okay guys... see you tonight." She bids. Jason gets up with her. "Mom can you drop me at Michael's place?" He asks. "I've got to collect a book. I've got an early history period today."

"Jason, you promised you'll wait till Rosa gets here."

"I know mom, but I'm sorry. I can't."

"Well then what are we supposed to do?" she looks at him in exasperation. "you're dad's got work and so do I. How am I supposed to leave grace back?"

"I can look after her." I shyly pipe in. I want to contribute even if it is in such a small way. And really I don't mind. All three of them suddenly look at me as Grace happily smiles back. "I mean... I'm free." I stutter.

"No you are not." Marissa looks at me, surprised. "You've got school."

"Uhh..." I look down. "I got expelled in view of my recent... I mean, so yeah. It isn't a problem, me staying back."

"You aren't expelled." Ryan says softly, looking closely at me. "At least not yet. I'm having an appointment with the headmistress today. We'll see if we can put your point across and get you reinstated."

"You don't have to do that." I blurt.

"But it's already taken care of." He answers. Gently placing Grace back in her high chair, he gets up, dabbing his mouth with the napkin as he places his dish in the sink apparently satisfied. "So you coming or what?"

"Umm me?" I'm still a little dumbfounded. Nothing is really sinking in.

"Yeah." he gently smiles. "I mean it's going to be hard convincing the principal to take you back without you being actually there, you know..."

I don't know what to say. I feel grateful and fearful at the same time, as i get up and mutely nod. Give me a second to change."

"Okay. And collect your backpack. We don't want to leave anything to chance."

Just then the bell rings and Rosa comes in. And it seems like everything is sorted out.


End file.
